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26 
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After Ten Years 7 5 

A Life's Revenge 7 5 

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Bill Detrick 7 3 

Brae, the Poor House Girl.... 4 

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Conn; or, Love's Victory 11 

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Driven to the Wall 10 

Driven from Home 7 

East Lyune 8 

Emigrant's Daughter 8 

Factory Girl ., 6 

Fielding Manor - 9 

Hal Hazard, 25c 10 

Heroic Dutchman of '76 8 

Henry Granden 11 

How lie Did It 3 

Hidden Treasures 4 

Hunter of the Alps 9 

Hidden Hand 15 

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Great Rebellion, 25c 10 

Lady of Lyons 12 

Lady Audley's Secret 6 

Man and Wife 12 

Maud's Peril 5 

Midnight Mi.'stake 6 

Miriam's Crime ~ 5 

Michael Erie 8 

Miller of Derwent Water 5 

Mii^tletoe Bough 7 

Mountebanks (The) 6 

Old Honesty 5 



3 

8 
2 
2 
4 

7 

5 

5 
4 
7 
3 
2 
2 
3 
2 
3 

2 

Old Phil's Birthday 5 3 

Outcast's Wife 12 3 

Out on the World 5 4 

Oath Bound 6 2 

Painter of Ghent 5 3 

Poacher's Doom 8 3 

Reverses 12 

Rock Allen 5 3 

S(tv of Atlanta, 25c 14 3 

Thekia 9 4 

Tile False Friend 6 1 

The Fatal Blow 7 1 

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The Gonllc man in Black 9 4 

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Through Snow and Sunshipe 6 4 

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Toodles 7 2 

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NO. 

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16 



Won at Last V 3 

Zion 7 4 

TEMPERANCE PLAYS. 

At Last 7 1 

Adrift 5 4 

Aunt Dinah's Pledge 6 3 

Drunkard [The] 13 5 

Drunkari's Warning 6 3 

Drunkard's Doom .....15 5 

Fifteen Years of a Drunk- 
ard's Life 13 4 

Fruits of the Wine Cup 6 3 

Lost 6 2 

Our Awful Aunt ., 4 4 

Out in the Streets 6 4 

Rescued 5 3 

Saved.. 2 3 

Turn of the Tide 7 4 

Three Glasses a Day 4 2 

Ten Nights in a Bar-Room... 7 

Wrecked ~ 9 

COMEDIES. 

A Pleasure Trip 7 3 

A Legal Holiday 5 3 

An Afflicted Family - 7 5 

Caste 5 3 

Home 4 3 

Love's Labor Not Lost 3 3 

New Years in N. Y 7 6 

Not So Bad After All 6 5 

Not Such a Fool as He Looks 6 3 

Our Daughters 8 6 

Passions 8 4 

Rags and Bottles 4 1 

Solon Shingle 14 2 

The Biter Bit 3 2 

TRAGEDIES. 
The Serf 6 3 



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FARCES AND COMEDIETTAS. 

12<.^ Aar-u-ag-oos 2 

132 Actor and Servant 1 

12 A Capital Match 3 

166 A Texan Muther-in-Law 4 

30 A Day Well Spent 7 

169 A Regular Fix 2 

80 Alarmingly Suspicious...- 4 

78 An Awful Criminal 3 

65 An Unwelcome Return 3 

31 A Pet of the Public 4 

21 A Romantic Attachment. 3 

123 A Thrilling Item 3 

20 A Ticket of Leave - 3 

175 Betsey Baker 2 

8 Better Half ^ 5 

86 Black vs. White ~ 4 

22 Captain Smith 3 

84 Choek Will Win 3 

22.5 Cupi 's Capers 4 

49 Der Two Surprises 1 



MilliE^ the Duadrnnii; 



•OR, 



Out Df BnniiagG. 

A DRAMA, 

IN FIVE ACTS, 

BY 

LlzziG May El^^yn, 

Author of ''Dot; The Jlinei's Daughter," etc. 



Entered acconling to act of Congress in the year 1S8S, hy 
AMES' PUBLISHING CO. 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



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MILLIE, THE QUADEOON. 



CAST OF CHABAGTEBS. 

Fred Grover, A Doctor, 

Charlie Hayden) ^^^^ ^^^^^^,^ ^.^^^ .^^^ 

Old jnathan ) 

Oscar Daville A Southern Planter. 

Ford A Sheriff, 

Freddie Millie's Son. 

Siah A Slave. 

Millie Grover } The Doctor^ s Wife. 

Sister Agnes \ -' 

Isadore Daville' s Betrothed. 

Priscilla The Doctor^ s Old Maid Sister, 

Harriet , A Mulatto. 

Gyp A Slave. 



PEKIOD— BEFORE THE CIVIL WAE. 



TIME OP REPRESENTATION— 1>^ HOURS. 



STA GE DIRECTIONS, 

i\, means Right; l., Left; k. ii., Right Hand; l. h., Left Hand; c, Centre; s. e,; 
[2d E.,] Second Entrance; u. e., Upper Entrance; m. d., Middle Door; f., the Flat 
r. F., Door in Elat; e. c, Right of Centre; l. c, Left of Centre. 

K. R. c. c. L. c. L. 

»** The reader is supposed to be upon the stage facing the audience. 



)q9t 

'If 



MILLIE, THE QUADROON; 

OK, 

OUT OF BONDAGE, 

xiCT I. 

SCENE 1st. — Sitting room at Cliff Villa, in the North. Miss Pris- 
ciLLA and Mrs. Mildred Grover seated; table, c; chairs, r. 
and L.; loiinge, l. c; easij chair with dressing-gown throion over 
it, R. c; slippers on foot stool. 

3Iildred. Where can Fred be ? Do you think anything has hap- 
pened to him, Miss Grover? I am so worried and anxious that I 
cannot rest. Oh, if he does not come to-night, what shall I do? 

Friscilla. You are making a perfect donkey of yourself. I'm 
sure he is Avell able to take care of himself. What sends him i)rowl- 
ing around those nasty southern states is more than I can imagine. 

31il. He told me that he was going after some old medicinal 
works that he saw advertised for sale in "Virginia. He should have 
been home three days ago. Oh, I'm so worried ! (going l.) So 
fearful and anxious ! (aside) She little knows why I am so anxious I 
Did she know the anguish that I endure, she would pity me ! 

(throios herself on lounge and weeps 

Pris. Humph! Softer than boiled squash! You had better sit 
up and stop bhibbering like a great baby. If there is anything a 
man despises, its a sniveling woman, and if Frederic, every time he 
is gone a little longer than usual, comes home to find you bellowing 
like a calf, he will soon get tired of you ; that is one sure thing I 
can tell you. ° 

Mil. Why, Miss Grover, liow you talk ! My Fred get tired of 
me? Why, he is one of the best husbands in the world. 

Pris. Well, if he is a good husband, you have me to thank for it; 
but you will soon spoil him. l^ow the best thing you can do is to go 
to bed, and if he comes, let him ring and thump' to get in. If you 
once let a man know that you care anything about him he will soon 
be sighing for new conquests; but as long as he isn't sure of you he 
will run his feet oft' to please you. When mother died she left 
Frederic in my care, and I have tried to bring him up in the way he 
should go. I taught him to wait upon me. I don't believe in a 
woman running after any man. I always kept him comfortable, 
but (pointing to dressing-gown) I never allowed anything like that, 

(footsteps heard, \ 



4 3IILLIE, THE QUABBOON, 

3m. Oh, he is coming! • {going n. 

Enter, Feed Grover, r. 
—Oh, Fred, I am so glad that yon have come ! I was fearful some- 
thing had happened to yon. 

Fred, {embracing her) Why, sunshine, what did yon think had 
happened to an able-bodied fellow like myself? 

3Iil. Oh, I imagined many things. I have waited at the station 
every afternoon this week, and to-night, when it grew dark, I was 
really alarmed. (takes hat and gloves 

Fred. How d'j^e do, Priscilla ! (shakes hands) Seems nice to be 
home again after '^six weeks of that beastly southern climate. 

Fris.^ Well, yon didn't seem in much of a hnrry to get here. If 
there is anybody I do despise its a man who never keeps his word. 
Here yon are three days behind time ! I do detest a person always 
behind ! 

Fred. Xow, Priscilla, yon know that yon are just as glad to see 
me as I am to be here, but yon think 1 deserve a scolding, (aside) 
and that 1 shall get it I have no doubt, (aloud) I did not get all of 
those old medical books wiiich I went after, and it took three days 
longer than I expected to hunt them np. 

Mil. Never mind now, dear ! We are so glad that yon have come 
at Inst. Here is yonr dressing-gov>^u; let me take your coat. 

Fred. No, no! Why, Millie, yon would turn yourself into a 
servant, I do believe. I won't change my coat till after tea. 

3Iil. Tea is all ready. I hope yon are very hungry, for I have 
''cooked your favorite dish. Come, Miss Grover, pntnp your knitthig 
and we will have tea immediately. 

Fred. Wait a minute, little woman; I've brouc;ht a present for 
Priscilla and I shonld like to get it oft my mind before tea. It 
might impair my digestion. Ha! ha! ^ 

Fris. A present for me! AVhat is it? Frederic, I do wish that 
you would be more prudent and not waste your money on useless 
presents. 

Fred. How do you know that this i^j useless? I think it will 
■ prove very handy, {going r., calls) Gyp ! Gyp, come here ! 

Fris. A dog ! If there is anything I do despise 

Enter, Gyp, r. 

— Good gracious ! Sakes alive! Fred Grover, what do yon mean? 
Fred. Don't you like your present, Priscilla? Here, Gjqi, tJiis is 
your new mistress. 

Gijp. New, is she? Oh, mine golly! He, he, he! How she 
gwine ter look when she gits old? Ho, ho, ho! Neio! 

{dances about 
Fris. You impudent young imp ! I've a great mind to box your 
ears soundly I 

Gyp. Thump away, missus, dis yer ole skull good for hard 
: knocks. AVhy, dey lised ter ponn' corn wid it in ole Virginy. 
,' Fris. You Avicked little story teller ! What do you siipi^ose will 
'become of you for telling lies? 

Gyp. Telling lies! J/e tell lies? Goliy, miss, I nebber tole a lie 
[ in ail my life ; hope I may die if I did. 

Fred. Well, Priscilla, how do yon like my present? 
Fris. Fresent! I would as soon touch a toad. If there is any- 
,body I do despise, it's a— a— cplored pej-son^ and you know it, Fred' 



MILLIE, TBE qVADBOON, 5 

Fred. I am sorry that you are displeased, but what shall I do 
Avithlicr? roll would not have me turn her out of doors, would 
you? 

Pris. Of course not. 1 suppose, as you have her, you will have 
to keep her; though what you ever brought her here for, is more 
than I can imagine. 

Fred. I will tell you. As I wfts passing through a slave planta- 
tion in Virginia, I saw an overseer lashing this child with more 
cruelty than I ever thought a man capable of using. Filled with 
pity I sought her master, and by paying a fair price, became owner 
of as mischievious a little imp as could be found. 

Pris. I was never so horrified in all my life ! To think that a 
brother of mine should go oft' down south trading human souls, for' 
all the world like one of those southern brutes. I'm astonished— 
after the bringing up you had, too ! 

Mil. Oh, Miss Grover, I am so glad he did! Come here, child; 
(Gyp goes over to Millie, loho puts arm about her) What is youi* 
name ? 

Gyp. Gipsy, missus. Dey mos' alius call me Gyp, fo' short, yo* 
know. 

3Iil. Oh, tell me, Gyp, isn't it dreadful to be a slave? 

Gyp. Well, yo' see, missus, I nebber was anyting else, so I dunno* 
I know de whip was dreftel. Golly, I feel de smart now. 

Mil. If I was sold into bondage I should die. Oh, I could not 
endure it! {pacing the floor) How dreadful! Oh, how dreadful ! 

Fred. AVhy, Millie, how nervous you are. Don't excite yourself 
so over imaginary evils. 

Pris. It's all your fault. She has been sitting up nights and 
carrying on just like that ever since you failed to make your appear- 
ance at the specified time. A fool she is for it, too ! 

Fred. Are you ill, Mildred? 

Mil. 1^0, I'm — I — I am nervous, I guess. We will go to tea now. 
Gyp, go down to the kitchen and tell bridget to give you some 
supper. Come, Fred. {all but Gyp exit, t.. 

Gijp. Golly, ain't I happy? Dis is de beautiflerest place, wid 
nuftin ter do. (sings and dances 

END OF AC* I. 



ACT II. 

SCENE — Same as in Act 1st. Millie seated sewing. Enter, Feed, 
E., with letter. 

Fred. Ah ! here you are, my dear, busy as usual. From whom 
do you think I have just received a letter? 

Mil. I am sure I do not know. Some one from whom you are 
glad to hearj I should think, by your appearance. 

Fred. It is indeed ! It's from my cousin Charlie, who went to 
Australia the year that we wxre married ; this is the first news I ' 
have had from him since. 

Mil. Why, Fred, you have never spoken to me of him. 

Fred. I know it; I'll tell you wiiy. When his father died, Pris* 
cilia took him into our family and cared for him as though he had 
been her own brother ; in fact, I think she loved him better than me> \ 
for he was yoiinger, o| j>.n itnpiilslYe, affeQ^Qijat^^iJ^sp^j^ion, a.ij_4i 



6 MILLIE, THE J^UADBOON. 

fairly worshipped "auntie" as lie called Priscilla. One day Charlie 
and I fell out, and after a few hot words, Charlie packed his trunk 
and started for Virginia, where his mother, wdio had married a 
wealthy planter, resided with her husband and little daugliter. 
Cliarlie has long ago forgiven me, biit he never will comeback to liis 
old home to stay. Whenever his name is mentioned, Priscilla 
launches a volley of pent up wrath on my defenseless liead. She 
declares that I am to blame for all of his short-comings. Sometimes 
I fear that it is so. Anyhow I discreetly forbear mentioning his 
name in her presence. 

Mil. But what is his full name, and why has he not written to 
you before ? 

Fred. Well, Charlie's mother married again soon after his father 
died and had one child, a daughter. She had no son, excepting 
Charlie; so when he went South his step-father adopted him and 
gave him his name, Ilayden 

Mil. (starting) Charlie Hayden ! 

Fred. Yes ; do you know him ? 

3Iil. I — I have met him. (seivs husihj 

Fred. I am glad of that: it will be pleasant to find an old ac- 
quaintance in his new cousin. You see, Charlie doesn't know that I 
am married and has written that he will soon make us a visit, (look- 
ing at letter) It is time for him now; this letter has been delayed. 

3Iil. (putting hand to her side} Ah ! 

Fred. What is the matter? (going to her side) Millie, are you ill? 

Mil. Oh, it's nothing — nothing but a — a slight pain in my — my 
side. 

Fred. It's that confounded sewing. Give it to me. (tosses work 
on table) There, now do give yourself a little rest. I'll get you some 
medicine for that pain; you have been troubled with it very much. 
(feels 2'ntlse) I'm afraid it is heart trouble. 

Enter, Priscilla, l. 

Fris. Mildred, what are you going to order for dinner? The 
hutcher is waiting. 

3Iil. I will attend to it at once. (exit, l. 

Fris. What in the world brings you home this time of day? I 
should think you would stay in the office even if you did not have a 
patient. To see you lounging about the house one would think you 
too lazy to work or so unskillful that nobody would employ you.' 

Fred. I came home to bring good news, Piiseilla. Charlie has 
returned from Australia and is coming to make us a visit. Here is 
his letter. (gives her letter 

Fris. (takes letter and sits on lounge) 1 should think he would 
write to me instead of to one who has caused his ruination. 

Priscilla reads; Fred takes medicine case from pocket and proceeds 
to make powders, 

Fris. Well, I never! If that good-for-nothing black-skinned sis- 
ter of his isn't coming with him ! I won't have lliat designing jade 
in the house. 

Fred. Priscilla, you forget that I am master in my own house 
and my wife is mistress, not you. Miss Hayden is a refined lady, 
and, as my guest, must he treated with the respect due her. 

Fris. Indeed ! 



MILLIB, THE qUABBOON, 7 

Enter, Millie, nujierceived, c. 

— Perhaps if the mistress of this house knew liow nearly you were 
caught in the net thiown by this refined lady, she might not be so 
ready to welcome her. It's my opinion she is comhig to try her arts 
again. Any woman who Avould run after an unmarried man, as she 
did after you, wouldn't hesitate to follow up any advantage she 
might gain over a married one. At any rate, I shairkeex) my eye on 
both of you. " (exit, l. 

Fred. Provoking woman I Though in some things, she may be 
right. I guess Isadore Hayden would be Mrs. Fred Grover now, if 
Priscilla hadn't given that confounded eye of hers so much liberty. 
Priscilla must have been mistaken about that young Englishman, 
though, for she is still single. I was a jealous fool— l' believe Tsadore 
did like me, and— bah ! it's too late to cry for spilled milk! (sees 
Millie) You here ! How pale you are ! :^Iy dear Millie, I fear 
that you are ill. I have fixed you some powders and you must take 
one as soon as you can. If it was not for the ex])ected visitors, I 
would take you to the sea-shore ; I think it would improve your 
health. They won't be likely to stay long and as soon as they de- 
part, away we will go. I must be off to the office now, so good bye, 
and don't forget the medicine. 

3Iil. Good bye. (exit Fred, throioing kiss) What is about to hap- 
pen? Oh, I shall go mad, mad ! My husband, whom I have trusted 
as the soul of honor, confesses his love for another. Isadore Hayden 
coming here ; coming to win him whose love I have forfeited so much 
to gain ! Oh, it is more than I can bear ! Did he know the disgrace 
that I have brought upon his children, he would curse me; but he 
must never know. I could not bear his reproaches. How I fear that 
woman. Should she suspect my secret slie would publish it to the 
world. And Charlie — dear, dear Cliarlie, how can 1 meet him? But 
I can trust him, the truest friend I ever had, though I treated him so 
cruelly. Yet, Avas I to blame? No ! my love for him was but a sis- 
ter's love, while my whole heart was given to my husband. And 
now — oh, Frederic ! Frederic ! ' [sinks on lounge, toeeping 

Enter, Pkiscilla, l., loith water, glass and spoon. 

Fris. Poor child ! to think that vixen should come here with her 
airs, for you to wait upon. It's enough to provoke a saint ! (mixing 
powder in glass and stirring vigorously) Here, child, take this; I only 
hope that Frederic won't cause you more pain than his medicine will 
cure. 

3Iil. Why, Miss Grover, what do you mean? 

Fris. Oh, nothing — I'rederic wanted me to see that you took this ; 
so drink it and then you had better go to bed. 

3Iil. I will take tlie medicine since you have so kindly prepared 
it, but I do not need it. ' (drinks 

Fris. I should think you needed something by the way you look, 
though I never did believe in doctor's stuff. "When I am sick I al- 
ways take a bowl of saffron tea as hot as I can drink it, and go to bed. 
I advise you to do the same. Most any slop will do, if it is only hot, 

(exit, L. 

3Iil. Ah, nothing but some deadly drug that takes life itself will 
remove this pain. Oh, that I could die! but no — I must not leave 
my children; that woman s/mZ^ «o« triumph. As the tigress fights 
for her young, so will I light for mine. I will keep my secret though 
it kills me. (exit, u. , 



8 MILLIE, THE QVADBOON, 

Enter, Gyp, r. 

Gyp. Ebrybody o-one ? Well, I'se glad ob clat fo' jes as suali as 
olc missus knows I'se got dat chile ter sleep, den I'se got ter tote dat 
great lubber ob a boy out ob her way. Cracky ! I jes about die laffin 
ter see dat young picaninny wid bof fists in de pie. {sees powders) 
What's dat? I spect its suinfin' dat fizzes an' biles Avhen dey puts it 
in water; I'll fix some, (mixes ivith loater) Phoo! dat don't fizz 
wors u cent. I'se seen 'cin fix it down ter de candy store; I like ter 
know what makes it bile ; mus' be saleratus I I'll hab some. 

{exit, L. 
Enter, Siah, e. 

Siah. Well, heah I is, an' I 'clar I'se glad nuff" ter stop. I'se mos' 
starved ter def an' dry as er whale, (sees glass) Hallo, what's dat? 
Sumfin ter drink; (drinks) 0-oh! I'se pizened ! murder! (jumps 
ahoiU) Help ! oh, dat am de debble's own trap, snah fo' sartin ! 

(runs out, R. 
Enter, Gyp, l. 

Gyp. Well, I'sG got dat saleratus at las'. Now I jes hab some ob 
de sluft' dat de white folks smack der mouf at. (surprised) Laws a 
massy ! Dat mus' hab biled while I'se gone, (looks k.) Golly, dar 
comes Massa Frederic wid lots ob company ! I'll clear out ob dis. 

(exit, L. 
Enter, \\., Fred, Charlie, Is adore and Oscar Daville. 

Fred. Welcome home, my dear cousin ; Miss Ilayden, I am glad 
to again welcome you to my home. Be seated, i^lease. 

(placing chairs 

Isa. Thanks, (sitting) I can assure you that I am more than 
glad to again visit your beautiful northern home. 

Fred. Mr. Daville, pray be seated ; any frisnd of Charlie's is 
heartily welcome here. My wife is not feeling well to-day, and is 
resting in her room ; she will be here presently. (rings 

Enter, Gyp, l. 

— Siiow this lady to the room prepared for her, and then call your 
mistress. 

Gijp. Yes, massa; missus dun fix de front chamber fo' urn com- 
pany, but Miss Silla say de blue room am mos' 'comin' ter Miss Hay- 
den's 'plexion. 

Isa, (aside) Spiteful wretch ! 

Fred. Conduct the lady to the room prepared by your mistress, 
my wife. 

Gyp. Yes, sah I (exit Isadoee aiid Gyp, r. 

Enter, Priscilla, l. 

Charlie, (catching Priscilla in his arms, kisses her) Auntie I 
My dear, loving auntie, how I have longed for a sight of this dear 
f^ce. 

Ens. (freeing herself) For the land's sake, Charlie Hayden, I 
never was so scandalized in my life I 

Charlie. Why, Priscilla, aren't you glad to see me? 

Fris. Of course I am ; but to think of ray being kissed by a man ; 
a great, grown man with whiskers, too I I 'declare, it is shockingly 
improper. 



MILLIE, TILE qVADnOON. 9 

Charlie. Ha, ha, lia! Miss Grover, let me present my friend, Mr. 
Davillc. Osear, tliis is my coLisin, aunt and mother, all in one. 

(Daville 6oi(.'sve?7/ Zoio; Priscilla hoics stiffly 

Div'IL'. I am very happy to meet Miss Grover, of wliom I have 
many times licard the highest praises. 

Fris. llnmph! So, Charlie, yon didn't bring yonr sister with 
yon. Well, 1 can't say that I am sorry. 

Charlie. . Oh, yes; she has gone to her room to remove her wraps. 

Pris. Humpli ! I hoped 

Fred, (gifing Pkiscilla a warning look) Gentlemen, perhaps you 
would like to go to your rooms? 

Daville. I should like to rid myself of this dust ; I am hardly fit 
for the society of ladies. {rising and bowing to Pkiscilla 

Charlie. Brush and wash to your heart's content, old fellow, but 
don't bother me. I'm comfortable, and guess I'm not so dirty but 
that the ladies can tolerate me. Eh, auntie? 

Fris. You will do if you behave yourself, though I would 
strongly advise you to wash your face at the first opportunity. 

Fred. This way, Mr. Daville. {they exit, R. 

Fris. Who is that creature? 

Charlie. Do you mean Daville ? I see that you have taken a dis- 
like to him ; that is my prospective brother-in-law. 

Fris. Isadore Ilayden's betrothed ? 

Charlie. Yes, 

Fris. I don't believe it: they are too much alike; joined, they 
would out-rival satan himself. At any rate I hope she will be con- 
tented witli him, and not go to setting her traps again for Frederic. 

Charlie. You wrong Isadore. I'm sure she is, at least, an honor- 
able woman. By the way, what kind of a M'oman is Fred's wife? 

Fris. One of the best. I must confess that I was most agreeably 
surprised in her. Fred married her down south, you know. 

Charlie. J^o, I did not know it. Is she a Southern lady? 

Fris. No; she was educated here, and M'as traveling South for 
her health, when Frederic married her. The first I knew about it 
was a letter from liim ordering me to make ready tor his bride. You 
may judge that I w^as not over-pleased, as I supposed her to be a 
Southerner, and I took Isadore Ilayden for a sample of southern 
women. 

Enter, Millie and Fred, r. 

Fred. Charlie, permit me 

Charlie. Great heavens ! Millie W^oodford ! 

Fred. N"or Millie Woodford now, Charlie, this is my wife, Mrs. 
Grover. Millie was telling me that you had met before. 

Mil. {extending her hand) Mr. Ilayden, I— I am glad to renew 
the acquaintance, and welcome you to your childhood's home. 

Charlie. I— ah— thanks, Mrs. Grover. {takes her hand 

Fred. Now don't go to being formal; just pick up your acquain- 
tance where you dropped it, and don't Await to get acquainted all 
over again. I want you to be the best of friends. 

Fris. If you liave any of your precious time to spare, I wish you 
would go into the parlor and attend to that patient in there. I 
shouldn't be at all surprised if he had the sraall-pox. 

Enter, Isadore, r., in time to hear the last remark. 

Isa. {shrieks) Oh, is it true ? I shall go home immediately. 



10 MILLIE, THE QtlADBOOI^. 

Fred. Of course it isn't so; that is some of Priscilla's absurd 
croaking. My patients are always afflicted with contagion, in her 
estimation. Miss Hay den, this is my wife, Mrs. Grover. I helieve 
you liave met before. 

IsADORE steps forward, puts arms about Millie, aiid kisses her; Mil- 
lie half turns aioay, then offers her hand. 

Isa. Why, Fred! Why didn't you tell me that you had married 
my old schoolmate? 

Pris. You may talk all yon like about my croaking, Frederic 
Grover, hut I want you to get that man out of this house immediate- 
ly — there is contagion in every breath he breathes. 

Isa. Oh ! I will go to my room at once. {exit R. 

Pris. Good riddance too ! I almost wish he had the j)lague, if it 
would rid the house of her. {exit, l. 

Fred. How aggravating Priscilla is when she takes a dislike to 
anyone. I suppose I must go and prescribe for that troublesome 
patient. I was hoping thatj having closed the office, I should not be 
bothered with them to-day. Please excuse me for a few minutes. 

Charlie. Certainly, {exit, Fred, l.) Millie, shall we renew our 
friendship? Beginning where we dropped it eight years ago? If I 
recollect rightly it was with vows of eternal constancy; this is the 
way you have kept your vows—bah ! Is this a sam^^le of woman's 
constancy and truth which the poets prate about? 

Mil. bo not condemn me unheard ; hear my ex]3lanation before 
you judge me so harshly. 

Charlie. What cau you say in defense of j^our conduct? Did I 
not go to x)repare a home for you, my promised wife? Did you not 
l^romise to wait one year, till E became of age and received my prop- 
erty ? After an absence of one year, during which time I had fitted 
a home for you, I returned to find you married and gone, nobody 
knew where. Oh, false, cruel woman, may you never know one half 
the misery that I suffered, as half maddened, I fled to Australia. 

{sits on sofa and drops his j ace in his hands 

Mil. Charlie, I was not false to you. I was cruelly deceived. 
You knoAV that your step-father was opposed to our union, dis- 
inheriting you in consequence 

Charlie, {looking up) But I did not care for that; I had enough 
of my own ; besides, my mother loved you as her own daughter. 

Mil. Yes, and I loved her, too. Oh, Charlie, it pained me more 
than you can know, leaving my friends to think of me what they 
must. Soon after you went away, I gave up my situation as gov- 
erness at Mr. Daville's, and returned home. At first I did not men- 
tion our engagement to mother. One day there came to the cottage 
an old mulatto woman, who asked for food. I asked her into the 
kitchen, where mother was preparing dinner, and never shall I for- 
get the look that passed over my mother's face. She grew white as 
death and sank trembling into a chair. (Daville appears r. c.) I 
ran to her side, but she motioned for me to leave the room. I did 
so, greatly wondering at her agitation ; but, Charlie, I know now. 
Can I trust you? 

Charlie, {rising, takes her hands) Millie, you may trust me with 
your very life. 

3Iil» That woman Wtas my mother. 



MILLIE, THE QUADBOON. 11 

Charlie. Great lieavens I Are you mad? ITow can that Ibe? Was 
not Mrs. Woodford 5'oiir niotlier? 

3IiL No ; after the Avomaii's departure, mother— for so I shall 
always call her— asked me about you. I then told her about our en- 
gageiuent, at which she wept, and said it must never be. I refused 
to give you up without good cause, and, after pleading with me a 
long time, she told me that the mulatto woman came from Mr. Hay- 
den's plantation; that Mr. Hayden would never consent to our union, 
and if we dared marry against his will, a shanieful secret would be 
revealed. Siie fell on her knees and begiicd me to give you uj), but 
even then I would not promise. Leaving mother, I went into the 
garden, whei-e I meet Oscar Daville. It was not a pleasant meeting, 
for I left his father's house on his account. 1 soon became aware 
that he had overheard the most of the convers:Uion between mother 
and n;\^self, and, wretch that he was, ho finished the tale to suit him- 
self. He said that I was an illegitimate child ; that your father and 
mine was one and the same. 

Charlie. The base scoundrel! Why didn't you ask Mrs. Wood- 
ford about the story '? 

3Iil. I did. Mrs. Woodford did not deny it ; she again asked me 
to give you up, and, thinking she sought to shield her own fame, I 
gave the required promise. 

Charlie. Oh, Millie, why did you not tell me all? This might 
have been set right, and you would now be my own happy wife. 
Oh, Millie, Millie! How can I give you up? 

3Iil. Forgive me, Charlie, if I pain you, but I would not have it 
ditierent. I love Fred with a deeper love than that which I gave to 
you. No wife ever loved her husband better. 1 have told you this, 
only that you might not regard me as a base, deceitful woman. 

Charlie. I will try and bear it bravely, for Fred is a good fellow, 
much better than I, and deserves your love. But tell me, how did 
you And out about that woman? Are you S2ire she is your mother? 

Mil. Yes; Mrs. Woodford told me on her death-bed. I have not 
had a moment's peace since. Oh, Charlie, this terrible secret is eat- 
ing out my heart ! Sometimes I fear that I shall go mad. 

Charlie. Dear Mildred, do not talk like that! Does Fred know 
this? 

Mil. {starting up) Merciful heavens ! No! What would you do? 
Oh, Charlie, you will keep my secret! 

Charlie. Yer\ I will. Fred is a hard fellow where his pride is 
concerned, and goodness knows what he might do if he should dis- 
cover it. But how came Mrs. Woodford to permit you to marry 
Fred without telling you of this? 

3Iil. She did not know that we had such intentions. I was trav- 
eling in the South, and Fred married me there. 

Charlie. Have you heard from the mulatto woman? 

3Iil. Yes ; hearing that she was needy, I sent her money, and 
have continued to do so. She has never come here, though at any 
moment she may, and tell all. It was with such threats that she in- 
duced mother to part us, thouj^h if, as she says, I am her child, I 
cannot imagine why she wishes to disgrace me. 

Charlie. Bah ! It is all a trumped up story. I don't believe a 
word of it. You with black blood in your veins ! more likely she 
stole you from somebody out of spite. Who was she ? 

Mil. Her name was Harriet, and she belonged to Mr. Daville, 

Charlie, Then I fear it is true 



m MILLIE, THE qUADBOOK. 

Enter, Gyp, l. 

Gyp. ^Scuse me, sah, but Miss Silla says will you come into de 
garden ? 

Charlie. Wh}'', certainly— will you come, Mrs. Grover? 

3111. Thank you, but I must attend to my jcrnests. Miss GrovcT* 
quite likely Avishes to show j'ou the fruit and flowers. 

Charlie.' I shall be pleased to see the ""arden. We will resume 
our conversation some other time. Lead the way, little girl I 

{exit, Charlie and Gyp, l. 

Enter, Daville, r. 

Daville. My dear Millie! 

3Iil. You here! How dare you enter my house? 

Daville. How dare I ? I would dare everything for you. Did yoii 
think you could hide from me? I wotild have followed yoti to the 
end of the earth, Millie Woodford — to hell itself! 

3Iil. You are a bad man, Oscar Daville, and I do not care to talk 
with you. I shall inform my husband that you are no fit inmate of 
his house. {going l. 

Daville. Wait, Mildred, hear what I have to say. I know your 
secret — the it-AoZe secret ! How will it sound to your proud and 
haughty husband? 

31il. Great heaven ! You would not be so cruel ! Oh, be merci- 
ful ! I pray you, do not tell my husband this! 

Daville. That depends upon yourself. 

Enter, Gyp, l. 

Gyp, Miss Silla says you mus' come immejiate an' take Massa 
Freddie out'n her way. 

Mil. I Avill come directly 

Pris. (outside) Mildred Grover, where are you? Mildred I Mil- 
dred, I say ! 

J/i7. I am coming! (fo Daville) Keep my secret. 

{exit L., MiLLY and Gyp 

Daville. Ah, ha! So I've found out your secret at last, my {jretty 
quadroon ; and the best of it is that you are my property. If I can 
only get her into the slave states, she is mine. Ha, ha! my little 
beauty, when you so scornfully refused the ofter of my heart and 
hand, I swore to be revenged, and that oath I intend to keep. 

Enter, Isadore, r 

Isa. Oscar, has that horrid man gone? 

Daville. To whom do you refer, my love? 

Isa. Don't make any spoony remarks to me. It is unnecessary- 
yon know well enough that I mean Dr. Grover's patient. 

Daville. I have seen no man, excepting the doctor himself; but I 
have seen our pretty hostess, have you? 

Isa. Have 1 seen her? I have, but this is not the ^rsf time. 
Oscar Daville, I have not come here without a purpose. 

Daville. So you knew who our hostess w\as to be; but I'll wager 
Mr. Charlie did not. 

Isa. I knew; and as I said before, I did not come here without a 
purpose. I also had reasons for bringing yoic with me. 



MILLIE, THE qUABIiOOK. IB 

Daville. Yes ; couldn't be separated from your beloved, you 
know. Ha, ha! 

Isa. Oscar Daville, I don't eaic to bear any more of that. I care 
no more for you, than you do for me, and you know it. Had you 
not been needful for my purpose, I should have much preferred your 
room to your company. 

Daville. Cool, upon my word ! Very pleasant for your future 
husband to hear! 

Isa. You know well enough that our engagement was but a busi- 
xiess affair, managed by our father's. We simply acquiesced, in 
order to pacify the old gentlemen. You were over head and ears in 
love with Millie Woodford, your sister's governess — you need not 
scowl at me — I know it, and I have brought you here that you may 
gain the affection of your adored. 

Daville. You don't seem to reckon on her being another man's 
wife. Perhaps you know her history, and think the'law won't hold 
her, though I tell you, Fred Grover will stick to her through thick 
and thin. 

Isa. What do you mean by her history ? Do you know more than 
IS generally known ? 

Daville. Do you know that she is old Harriet's daughter? (Isa- 
^ORE starts) I heard her telling Charlie about it to-day. It seems 
tliat Grover doesn't know it, and she is in mortal terror lest he 
should find it out. 

Isa. The very thing ! I had not thought of it before. I have a 
plan ; you follow my directions and you will succeed in recovering 
your property, for if she is old Harriet's child, she must be your 
slave. I will go to my room now, I want to think this over. 

(exit, n. 

Daville. All right, my haughty lady, you plot, and so it brings 
down the game, I'll follow your directions; but I shall not give up 
my claim on you and the snug fortune that falls to your share. Oh, 
no ! I well know that you are aiming at the young doctor, and you 
think once rid of the little quadroon, you are sure of him ; but I'll 
see to that, my lady; I'll see to that! (exit, u. 

Enter, Siah, l. 

Siah. Now I jes' like ter know what Massa Oscar up to. He an' 
dat ar' gal up to no good, dats suah. Dey don't do much goGd any- 
how, I spec. Dat gal got Avhat my ole muddcr used ter call de ebil 
eye, an' when she done sot dat eye on folkses dey mos' alius come ter 
trubble. By golly ! I jes keep out ob her way. 

Enter, Gyp, r. 

Gyj). Fo' de laws a massy ! Siah, whar you corned from ? 

(seizes his hand 

Siah, Well, my golly ! ain't I glad ter see dis (jhile ! (dances 
wildly about, taking Gvr loith him) I'se corned wid Massa Oscar. 
Ole Massa am dead, an' young massa jes gobbled up do whole lot, 
an' tooked me to v/ait on he ; golly, I'd nebber 'spec ter sec you 
heali. 

Gyp. I'se mighty glad ter see yer, fo' suah, Siah ; but I'se a lieap 
rudder yer b'longed to anybody mdes dat ar' young debble. He no 
good, he ain't. Say, Siah, ain't you hungry ? 



14 MILLIE, THE QUADBOON. 

Siah. I is, clat's a fac'. I'se holler from de top ob my head, to de 
soles ob mj^ shoes. I ain't eat a fing^ince de las' time. 

Gi/p. Well, you stay heah, an' I'll fin' siimfin' fo' yer. (exit, l. 
Siah. Well, I 'elar ; I'se foun' a frien' in dis cold country. 

Dances ahout and nearly overturns Gyp, vjIw enters xcitli a sheet oj 
gingerbread. 

—I'se so happy I could hug somebody, an' it might jes as well be 
yon. (attempts to embrace Gyp 

Gyp. Git out ob de way. Slab! Ain't you 'shamed ob yersef? 
Miss Silla dun say it be sandybillious. Heah, yer jes eat dis 'fore de 
old missus come an' cotch yer. 

Siah. You'se a bressin', you is. (eats) How yer like libin' 
'mongst de Yankees? 

Gyp. Fus' rate; pears dull heah sometimes. Say, Siah, does dey 
hab any dances like dey did 'fore ole massa died? 

Siah. Golly, no! nuffin but work on de ole plantation now. I'se 
jes 'bout dyiii' fo' a breakdown. Le'shab a dance? 

Gyp. (looJcs out) Yer jes go ahead, Siah, dar ain't nobody comin'. 
(SiAK deposits gingerbread on chair, and they proceed to dance; Gyp 
listening) I b'lebe dey is comin' ! {looks -l.) Ole miss am comin'; 
come 'long. Slab! (runs n.) Oh, my golly ! dey is all comin' dat 
way ! (catches up gingerbread) Eat dis, quick ! 

(crams gingerbread, into his mouth; he chokes; she thumps his back 

Enter, l. and R., Pkiscilla, Fiied, Charlie and Isadore. 

END OF ACT II. 

ACT III. 

SCENE 1st.— Woods, rocks, etc.; Oscar D ay ii.ij<: and Isadore, r. 

Daville. Well, Isadore, I must say thnt you are a skillful plotter. 
I'll be hanged if yon have not managed this aftiiir with a skill worthy 
of a better cause. You have roused all the fury of the little quad- 
roon, and she is as jealous as all possessed, but does not dare say a 
word lest I should expose her secret to the doctor; there is Charlie 
ready to tear me limb from limb, but held in check by Millie, who' 
fearing me, keeps him quiet; and through it all, not a thing can be 
tracked home to you; you have managed to throw it all on my 
shoulders. Ila, ha! very clever of you, to be sure. 

Isa. Thrown it all on your shoulders, indeed ! If you ai'c not wise 
enough to cover your tracks, it is not my fault. I expect you will undo 
all of my work with your stupid blundering. You should have 
stayed and Avatched her to-night. She has borne about all that she 
can, and the next thing will be llight. Jf you do not watch she will 
be gone before you know it. Once alone and unprotected, you could 
take her aw\'iy to the slave states, where, as the daughter of old Har- 
riet, you will be entitled to her, soul and body. 

Daville. She will not get away, never fear. I will go back now, 
and keep a watch on her. Are you not going? 

Isa. With you ? No ; do you not know that we must not be seen 
together ? 

'Daville. Why ? I should like to know what is more natiural thau 
an engaged pair taking a stroll togetUer? 



MILLIE, THE quadroon; 15 

Isa. I do not choose to be seen with you, and that is enono-h. 
Now leave me. ° 

Eaville. {going, l.) Your word is law, my fair Isadore. Ta, ta! 
(aside) I understand you, and I'll watch your little game, my lady! 

(exit 1j 
Isa. I was afraid that I could not get rid of him, and it is time for 
Frederic to pass this way. I will sit here, and await his coming. 

(takes magazine from pocket, and proceeds to seat herself 

Enter, Harriet, r. . 

Harriet. Isadore I 

75a. (starting up) You here ! Wretch, why have you followed 
me to this place '? 

Harriet. I came to warn you— to command you— to let rest in 
peace, one who has never harmed you; one whose whole life has 
been made miserable in order that you might be reared in ease and 
luxury. 

Isa. What nonsense is this, you demented old witch? Begone I 
away with you, and let me alone ! 

Harriet. You know very well what I mean, and I warn you to 
give up this vile scheme which you are working against Mrs. Grover. 
Go back to your home and leave her in peace, else I will reveal all 
though it cause you to fall into the pit which you are diggins; for her! 

Isa. Wretch, you would not dare I (springing towards Harriet 

Harriet. Back ! Do not touch me ! I have stained my soul with 
crime, borne blows and abuse; aye, risked my life for you, and what 
have you given me in return? My blood runs in your veins, yet 
have you given me one word of aftcction? Xo ! you gave me free- 
dom, but it was to rid yourself of my presence. When I asked for 
sympathy, you flung me money, with a curse. When I came to you 
faint and hungry, you gave me poisoned wine; (Is a-dohy, starts) 
you need not flinch ; I know you now, and shall ask no iwovq favors, 
but I shall expect to be obeyed. I will not stand by and let you 
persecute Millie Grover. Every month she sends me a sum of 
money, and last week Avhen I was ill, she came and ministered to 
me with her own fair hands. You knew that I was suflering, and 
never off"ered to help me. Had she been my child instead oiyou, I 
could love her, and would not betray her to save the whole world. 
I have warned you ! BeM'are ! {walks hack tovmrd the cliff 

Isa. Must I lose all? No; I will not give him up ! Courage I 
(creeps after Harriet, makes a sudden spring forward, and pusheslicr 
over the cliff) Ah ! that was a bad job ; but you won't trouble me 
any more, my dear mother, you knew too much ! Ough ! I'm all a 
tremble; I've no more courage than a mouse. Hark! Some one is 
coming. I must not be found here. (goes down front 

Enter, Fred, l. 

Fred. Ah, Isadore, you here? This is pleasant. I trust I shall 
have your company on my way home. You seem agitated. What 
has happened ? 

Isa. Oh, dear ! I think you had better walk on alone. If any one 
should observe us they might make ill-natured remarks, and your 
wife is so very jealous, too! She knows that I love — that you — oh, 
dear ! oh, dear ! what have I said ! Go away ! Leave me ! 

(sinks into a seat and piretends to vjccp 



16 31 ILL IE, THE QUADBOON, 

Fred, (kneeling beside her) Isaclore, what is the trouble? You 
may confide in me ns yon would in3X)ur own brother. 

Isa. (aside) Bro her! I hntQ t\ie ^^'0V(\ I (aloud) You must des- 
pise me after what I admitted ; but I will go away, and you will try 
to forget it, won't youV 

(putting her hand on his shoulder, and looking into his face 

Fred. Despise you! No, indeed, Isadore; far from it. 

Enter, Millie and Charlie, l. 

— You have always been very dear to me. We all make mistakes 
sometimes. Come, let us walk along towards home; tea will be 
waiting. (exit, R., with locked arms 

31il. Oh, Charlie, why don't I die? How can I live after witness- 
ing such a scene ! Oh, Charlie, that was my husband— my husband ! 
and he loves her ! (loringing her hands) He thinks he has made a 
mistake in marrying me. Oh, heavens ! it has been all a mistake, a 
fatal mistake I (sinks on seat and weeps 

Charlie, (angrily) He is a miserable dog, that he is ! and not 
worth one of your tears. I wouldn't give way like this. Come, 
now, brace up, and, as Priscilla says, "give him a piece of j'-our 
mind." Perhaps a good blowing up will bring him to his senses. 

Mil. Charlie, he loves that woman ; he loved her before he knew 
me. I heard him confess it, and I believe he hates me now for com- 
ing between them. Oh, Charlie, I am neglected and despised be- 
cause of her ! How can I bear it ? What shall I do ? Oh, what shall 
I do ! (weeps 

Charlie. The deuce take him, I say. Let him go to the dogs if 
he will, and come with me. Mildred, I love you, and the day that 
you leave him, I will make you my wife. I have never ceased to 
love you — not w^hen you cast me off, and without a word, married 
another, did I forget you. Millie, my darling, come with me now I 

Mil. (rising) Charlie Hayden ! This from you ! How dare you 
address such language to me, sir? Shame upon you to insult a wo- 
man who has already enough trouble to turn her brain. Shame up- 
on you! 

Charlie. Forgive me! I forgot all, save my love for you. But, 
Millie, you need a protector, and I would shield you from the cold 
and bitter cruelty of the world, which you must bear alone, unless 
you accept my protection. It is not likely that Isadore will keep 
your secret much longer, for I now see that, as Priscilla said, "she 
came here with the intention of winning your husband." 

3Iil. She win my husband ! What do you mean? / am his wife; 
he cannot marry another Avhile I live. 

Charlie. Oh, child, can't you understand? Don't you know— Oh, 
Millie, I cannot tell you ! (ticrns away 

Mil. Speak out. What do you mean? Oh, wiiy do you torture 
me so? 

Charlie. Don't you know that a slave has no laws? Millie, you 
are a slave; you were married in the slave states, and, you— heaven 
forgive me this blow !— but you are no Avife— you have no husband ! 

Mil. Oh, Charlie, it was left for you to deal the final blow! Leav^ 
me now ; I would be alone. 

Charlie. No, Millie, not while you look like that. This is a dan- 
gerous place, and you are hardly responsible for your acts. Come, 



MILLIE, THE qUADBOOK. 17 

let us go liome now ; j^ou will be able to look at your position more 
calmly in tbe morning. 

3IiL Go! Leave me at once ! Danger ! Talk not to me of dan- 
ger ! Would it not be a thousand times better to be dashed to pieces 
on yonder rocks, than living this life? Miserable, unloved— a re- 
proach to my children — Oh, I cannot bear it! 

{walking tfildl>/ about; stage grows darker 
Charlie. Mildred, you must tiy and bear this calmly. For 
heaven's sake, think of your children ! If you go on in this manner 
the secret of your parentage will be out before you are prepared! 
Come, it is nearly dark, and they will wonder at your absence froni 
home ; let us go. {attempts to lead her, n. 

Mil. Xo ; I will not go with you. I command you to leave me ! 
Charlie. Very well, I Will go ; but I beg you to come home. 

{goes R. 
Millie falls on her knees before, and boics head on seat. Daville 
enters^ l., coat off, hair and clothes icet. Ising-glass may be 
sprinkled over clothes to give them the appearance of being ivet. 
Stage grows slowly dark. 

Daville. Well, here's a trump card fallen to my hand, and I shall 
not neglect to play it. So, my peerless Isadore, you are the quad- 
roon, are you? So much the better for me and little lady Mildred. 
You may take the doctor, and go to the devil — the sooner the better! 
I shall stick to the doctor's wife. Once let me get them separated 
and she shall be mine, by fair means or foul. If she was worth win- 
ning as the little quadroon, she is doubly so as .old Ilayden's daughter 
and heiress. I've old Harriet in my power, and there she will^stay 
till everything is settled to my satisfaction. 

(Millie rises, and sees Daville 

Mil. Ton here! Why have you followed me to this place? What 
do you want with me? 

Daville. jSTot much; yourself, that is all ! 

Mil. Oscar Daville, do you dare follow me iiere to insult me? 
Coward ! I am a woman ; I cannot avenge myself, but I am not 
friendless, and unless you cease to persecute me you shall be pun- 
ished. 

Daville. Eah ! Millie Woodford, I swear you shall be mine. I 
do not love you — I never loved you — but yet 1 shall marry you. If 
I thought you could escape me, I M'ould kill you where you stand ! 

Mil. Heaven help me! {suddenly runs n., Dayilj.e following 

Enter, Charlie, r., se/^-es Daville by collar, and hurls him backiuard, 

Charlie. Wretch! What new villainy are you plotting? and m 
such a plight as this ! AVould you dare lay your polluted hands on 
her? 

Daville. Be careful how you address me, j'oung man. I think 
if you should apply some of those epithets to yourself, and some of 
your i)lots, they would be as well placed. 

Charlie. None of your sneaking insinuations, sir. What do you 
mean ? Out with it ! 

Daville. I mean that you use pretty strong language for a man 
who sneaks into another man's family, and makes love to his wife 
every chance lie can get. 1 shall Inform Dr. G rover what a viper 
he is entertaining. 



18 MILLIE, THE QUADBOON. 

Charlie. Scouiiclrel ! 

{springs f onward and strikes DavillA in the face; Millie exits, r. 

Daville. You white-faced hound! I'll have your life for that! 

Both draw revolvers and fire. Daville presses hand to his side, stag- 
gers and falls. Charlie runs forward, partly raises him. 

Charlie. Whut have I done? He is dead ! Great heaven ! dead, 
and I am a murderer I What shall I do? Where shall I go? I must 
not be found here I I must away, hut I will make one more appeal 
to Millie. {exit, r. 

Enter, Isadore, r., iDith lantern partly concealed beneath a long cloak.. 

Isa. How dark it is here! I thought I heard some ono creeping 
through the bushes, {listens) Bah ! what a coward I am getting to 
be. ("Daville groans) Fiends of Hades ! {drops lantern, and runs 
■L., then cautiously returns) That groan; she is not dead! Oh, this 
is horrible! but a job like that cannot be left half done; the deed 
must be finished, {picks up lantern, draws dagger, and disappears 
over the cliXT; after a short absence, she re-appears) This is strange; 
no sign of the body anywhere! It might have washed aAvay, but I 
certainly heard a groan. It could not have been my over-wrought 
fancy. "Oh, where will this end ? I wish I had not come back here. 
{moan heard) There it is again ! I must finish my work! I tremble 
in every limb; this is dreadful! {hiding lantern under cloak, she 
creeps toward Daville; as she nears him, she raises dagger and flashes 
light upon him; screams) Oh, it is Oscar! What has happened to 
him? I must not be seen, or I shall have to explain my presence 
here at this time of night. {exit, R 

SCENE II.— Same as Scene 1st, Act I. Millie seated l. of table, 
head bowed on hand. Enter, CiiATii.iE, n., dress very much dis- 
ordered; blood on hands and cuffs. 

Mil. {looking up) Charlie, why do you come to me in such a 
l)light? Oh, Charlie, have you been drinking, when I need your 
aid so much ? 

Charlie. I have not. Liquor would not intoxicate me now; 
would not take away the sense of ray crime. Millie, I have come to 
make one last appeal to you. I am going away, to the far ends of 
the earth, and I shall never return. Millie, come with me, and let 
us begin a new life, {holding out his hands) Come! I cannot leave 
you here to be driven to death by them. 

Mil. {starts) What is that on your hands? It is blood ; and on 
your cuffs, too ! What have you done ? 

Charlie. It is blood, human blood, and I have done murder! 
Will you go with me, Millie ? {seizes her in ?iis arms) Go where 
nobody will molest us ! 

Mil. No, no, no.' Oh, release me ! What have you done? Oh, 
my husband ! If 5^ou have harmed him, I shall hate you. 

Charlie. Hark ! Some one is coming — it must be the oflicers ! 
Farewell, my darling ! {exit, l. 

Enter, Prircilla, e. 

JPris, This day's work is done, thank goodness I I declare, Fm 
albout worn out. I sliould like to know if that trilje expect to winter 



MILLIE, THE QUADBOOIT, 19 

here. I'm heartily sick of them. If they don't go soon, I shall give 
them a piece of my mind. 
31il. Oh, Miss Grover, have voii seen Fred ? Has he come home 

yet? 

Pris. Home ! No ! Here it is past ten o'clock, and not a sign of 
him yet. Trapsing about with that good-for-nothing Isadore Hay- 
den, I'll warrant She has gone somewhere that she has no business 
to, for she lied al)ont going — said she was going to her room, bnt I 
watched her, and saw her creeping away towards the woods. 

Mil. Oh, Miss Grover, do not talk so ! I fear that something has 
happened to him. Have you seen Charlie? 

Eris. I shall talk just as I please; and you need not Avorry about 
Frederic Grover; nothing will happen to him. I just wish he would 
happen to iDick up a stock of brains, the wooden-headed idiot! Oh, 
I would like to have him a boy again, for if anybody needs a good 
trouncing its Fred Grover. 

Enter, Gyp, r. 

Gpjy. I'se done got de baby to sleep, an' put de odder picaninny 
in his bed, an' tucked dem bof in snug. 

3Iil. Well, Gyj), you may retire now; but first put the baby with 
Freddy. I shall stay with them to-night. 

Gyp. Yes'um; good night. Missus Millie. 

J/i7. Good night, Gyp ! {taking her hand) In the morning, you 
will find a little present on the hall table, Avliich I want you to ac- 
cept. I w\ant you to care for the children as long as they need a 
nurse. Will you do this ? 

Gyp. 'Deed I will, Missus, I'd jes cry mj eyes out if I had ter 
lebe de little picaninnies, suah I would, Missus ! 

3Iil. I believe you, child ; now, good night! 

Gijp. Good night, Missus! Good night, Miss Silla! 

Pris. Good night! {exit, Gyp, r.) Mildred, you are a queer 
woman. Why, you treat that child as though she were your equal. 

3[il. And is she not? She is a human being, capable of feeling 
insults and appreciating kindness, and though her skin is black, I 
doubt not but her soul is whiter than many of her white sisters. 

Pris. True enough, yet it is not everybody who takes that view. 

Enter, Fred, l. 

Fred. Waiting up for me? I expected that you had retired. 

Pris. You did, did you? Do you suppose I am going to bed 
and leave the doors unlocked for anybody and everybody to tramp 
into the house ? It has been done more than once to accommodate 
that miserable scalawag of a Daville, but I w^on't have it done again. 
Some morning I shall get up with my brains blown out, and nothing 
left in the house to live on. 

Fred. Well, Priscilla, how are you going to live after your brains 
are blown out, I should like to know? 

Pris. Well, as you have lived without brains a good many years, 
you need not seek information from me. 

Fred. Shall I light your bedroom candle, Millie? You look 
weary. 

3Iil. Ko, thank you ! I shall stay with the children to-night, but 
you had ti^tter retire. 



m MILLIE, THE QUABBOON, 

Fred. I believe I will, for I have just returned from a long ride, 
and I may be called out again at any moment, {takes candle) Well, 
good night and plensant dreams. 

Mil. {rising and holding her hands towards Feed) Oh, Fred, 
won't you ki>s me just once? Bid me good night as you did when 
you loved me I 

Fred. Wliat nonsense ! {takes hands and kisses her) I'm afraid 
you are growing sentimental. 

{exit, R. Millie sinks into chair and weeps 

Pris. You are the biggest fool I ever saw ! Before I'd shed so 
many tears over a man,"i'd just give him a piece of my mind. 
Frederic is no worse than any other man, though. They are all a 
good-for-nothing set. 

3IiL {coming over to Priscilla) If anything should happen to 
me, you will always stay here, will you not? 

Fris. Why, child, what do you suppose will happen to you? 
■ 3Iil. I might die. Indeed, I think 1 shall die, and I want you to 
promise me that you will stay with my children, and not let any 
other woman ill-treat them. 

Fris. I'll promise that. I'd fight for them tooth and nail, if need 
be; but land's sake ! you are not going to die. You will live to be a 
hearty old lady yet. Come, now, go to bed and get some rest. I 
will sit up for that trash. There is going to be a revolution in this 
house, and it may as well commence to-night as any time. 

3IiL No, Miss Grover, you may retire and I will wait for them, 
as I wish to sit awhile. 

Fris. Well, if you won't go, I may as well. I don't think they 
will staj^ out much longer, {takes candle) Good night ! 

3Iil. {rising and giving hand) Good night, dear Miss Grover! 
You have always been a true friend to me, and I hope you will for- 
give me if I have been unkind to you. Say you will forgive me. 

Fris. Land's sake, child, I've nothing to forgive"! {suddenhi 
kisses Millie) Sakes alive, how you do flustrate a body ! 

Mil. Oh, thank you, Miss Grover ! I shall never forget that. 

Fris. Very likely you won't! I'm getting to be an old fool. 

{exit, R. 

3Iil. All are gone ! I am left alone ! Oh, my dear, dear friends, 
when shall I look upon your loved faces again? I must say farewell 
to my children. Can I endure it? This is worse than death, a thous- 
and times ! {exit, r. 2 e. 
Enter, Isadore, l. 

Isa. Nobody here! The fates must aid me. All have retired, and 
I shall not be d'scovered — fool that I was to imagine a spy lurking 
beneath every bush! Had I not been such a coward I should have 
gone back an'd ]nit an end to the sufterings of Oscar Daville. Now 
he may know all — but, pshaw ! let to-morrow bring its own evils — I 
will clear every obstacle from my path, and raake^Frederic Grover 
my husband! {raising her hand) I swear it! Let Mildred Grover 
beware ! {exit, r. 1 e. 

Enter, Millie, r. 2 e. 

3Iil. It is over. I have given up all, all ! Heaven protect my 
children ! I'arewell, my husband ! Farewell, dear home in which 
J have been so happy ! Alas ! I shall know no more happiness. 



MILLIE, THE QUADliOON, ^i 

K.CENE III.— Same as Scene 2d. Frkd and Tsadoke, seated r. andL, 

Fred. Ton in,y \\oi\], cverybod;/ is lute tins moriiiiio;! I o-ncs? 
Bridget must have mixed a sleeping- potion with tlie tcaTust night. 

Isa. It 2S Ji little strange that tiiey sleep so late. 11 ad yon not 
better have them called? 

Enter, Priscilla, l. 

Pris. So you are up, are you? I should think it was high time 
too ! Though if anybody prowls about half the night nobody can ex- 
pect them to get up in decent season. 

Isa. Miss Grover, 1 am very sorry if I have caused you any in- 
convenience. But, as other members of the family have not yet 
arisen, I am afraid you will liave to w^ait still longer. 

Pris. {ringing hell) I should not think Mildred would feel at all 
like rising to-day. I would have a little consideration for others, it 
I were in your place, and not keep them \\\} all night. 

Fred. Priscilla! 

Pris. Mind your business, young man ! 

Enter, Gyp, l. 

— Go and tell your mistress that breakfast is waiting. 

Gyp. Yes' urn! Whar shalll fin' her? 

Pris. Why, in the children's room : slie has not yet risen. 

Gyv. You'se 'staken dis time, Miss Silla. I'se been dar dis hour, 
tendin' de babies. Deys bofe washed an' dressed, an' I ain't £een 
de missus dis mornin', suah. 

Fred. I will call the gentlemen, and in the meantime, look in my 
room. Millie may be there. (^qxH e. 

Pris. Gyp, go to the stable, and I will look for her in the garden. 

{exit, L. and R. 

Isa. She has gone ! There may be a letter in the children's room. 
I will look. I may find some clue to her destination. {exit, r. 

Enter, l., Siah, leading Oscar, dressed same as Scene 1st.; shirt 
stained ivith blood. 

Vavllle. (lying on lounge) Well, here's a pretty mess ! {attempts 
to move) Oh-h ! Confound the luck ! I'm laid up for one month, I 
guess. What the deuce will become of old Harriet. Siah ! 

Siah. Sah ! 

Daville. Do j^ou know of that little hut near the place where you 
found me? 

Siah. Yes, I dus, INEassa Oscar, 

Daville. {giving Siah money) Here, take this money, go down to 
the village, and buy a pint of rum 

Siah. Mine golly ! I'se a toteetlar, I is 

Daville. Shut up ! Buy the rum, some tea, crackers, sugar, milk 
and steak; then go up to that cabin and get breakfast for the old 
woman that you will find there. Give her the rum, and tell her to 
bathe the fractured limb. Here is the key, and be sure you lock the 
door. I shall expect you to tend her till 1 get well— and, Siah ! 

Siah. Sah ! 

Daville. Just so sure as that old woman gets aw^ay, or anybody 
finds out Uiat she is there I'il kill you. Do you understand? Pll 
hilly out 



^2 MILLIE, THE qUADBOON, 

Siah. Yes, sah! I understand, {aside) Kill me ! mine .sjolly ! I 
feel a kind ob nll-ober-isli-nes,s ;i crectVin' up my back now ; I 'spect 
lie sloped wid dat ole woman, an' de olo man shooted he. Cracky i 
somebody might shoot dis cliile. Somefin's gwine ter happen ter dis 
nigger. Oh, deah ! {exit, l. 

Enter, Isadoiie, icith letter, R. 

Isa. Oscar! Why, what is the matter? What has happened to 
you ? 

Daville. Matter enough, I'm shot! Tliat infernal brother of 
yours left me for dead up tliere in the woods; but I'm not dead, 
and I'll make him suller for this night's work. AVhere is he? 

Isa. I do not know. He has not been seen this morning. Mil- 
dred has lied, and you will lose her. I have her letter here. She 
blames you and me for most of her trouble, but does not say where 
she is going. I shall take good care that Dr. Grover does not receive 
this. 

Enter, Fked, r. 

Fred. You here ! Are you injured ? What has happened ? 

Enter, Priscilla, l. 

Pr is . F or th e 1 and' s s ake ! 

Fred. What sort of an accident ? 

Daville. One that deeply concerns members of your family. I re- 
gret to say it, and in the presence of Isadore, too, but you have been 
entertaining a viper. 

Pris. That's no news. 

Fred. Speak plainly. 

Isa. Yes, Oscar, do not keep us in suspense, explain all ; perhaps 
you may throw a light on the mysterious absence of dear Millie. We 
are dreadfully alarmed about her. She disappeared sometime be- 
tween midnight and five this morning, and cannot be found. 

Daville. It is as I teared. Yesterday afternoon, as I was walking 
along the edge of the cliff, I stumbled, and fell over. How long I 
lay there I do not know, but it w^as very dark when I regained con- 
sciousness. I removed my coat, and, after great exertion, managed 
to reach the top. I dimly saw a figure advancing, and was about to 
speak, when I perceived another approaching, and recognized Mil- 
dred, your wife. The other w^as Charlie. I heard enough to con- 
vince me that they were preparing to elope. I stepped out, and 
would have prevented it, but Charlie drcAV a revolver, and shot me. 
I knew no more till this morning, when Siah, fishing along the 
stream, found and aided me home. 

Fred. Great heavens ! Can this be true ? 

Fris. True! It's my opinion that it is all a lie, from beginning 
to ending, invented to serve some of his infernal plots. She has 
committed suicide more likely, and she has been driven to it ; yes, 
driven to it by you, who should have been her protector, and these 
two black snakes whom you have been harboring, galvanting all over 
the Lord's creation with that good-for-nothing trollop at your heels; 
but let Mildred think of going, and there was always an excuse in- 
vented to keep her at home. If she has gone with Charlie, you are 
to blame for it, for you placed the temptation in her way. He has 
been her chief companion for the past three months, while you have 
"been traipsing around with this refined lady, for whom you were 



Millie, the qvadmooit. *s^ 

ready to go crazy, before you married Millie ; and the whole village 
knows it, too ! Mark my words, Frederic Grover, you will repent 
this work. 

EnteVf Gyp, l., loith little bible. 

Gyp. Oh, Miss Silla, missus done drownded hersef, deed she has ! 
Oh, 31 assa Trederic, she done drownded hersef in de ribher ! Boo, 
hoo, hoo ! 

Fred. What have you seen? Speak, girl I (shakes her 

Gyp. 'Deed, Massa Frederic, it's all my fault ! I ought ter stayed 
long ob her, 'stead ob goin' ter bed an' lebin' she ter kill hersef jes 
much she min' to. Boo, hoo, hoo ! 

Fred. Can't you speak? Tell me how you know that she lias 
drowned herself? 

Gyp. Cause she writ it on dis yer paper, an' left it on de table 
wid dis little bible. Oh, deah ! 

Fred, {takes note and reads) "Gyp, I am going far away, and I 
will leave you this little book. Follow it's teachings, and you will 
receive the reward promised therein — a home in heaven. There is 
no slavery there, Gyp, all are free. Farewell! You will see me no 
more on earth, but 1 trust we shall meet beyond the river. Your 
unfortunate mistress, Millie." 

Feed sinks in chair, bozos head on hands. Gyp squats on floor, cover- 
ing face luith apron, anC. crying loudly, 

END OF ACT III. 

Lapse of seven years between Third and Fourth acts. 
ACT IV. 

SCENE I. — Same as in Act 1st. Isadore seated, reading noveh 
Daville enters, l. 

Isa. {rising) Oscar Daville! 

Daville. The very same. I have come to offer my congratulations. 
So you've trapped your game at last ? 

Isa. You are rather late with your congratulations, Mr. Daville. 
I have been married tw^o years. 

Daville. Indeed! How did you manage to catch the doctor? I 
understood that he did not believe in divorced people marrying. 

Isa. Neither does he. Do you not know that his wife is dead ? 

Daville. I do not; neither do you. I saw a notice of her death in 
the papers, and, believing the report true, gave up searching for her. 
One evening, happening to enter a popular theatre in New York, 
nearly the first person I saw was Millie. I hurried round to tbe 
back entrance as soon as the play was over, only to find her gone. I 
got her address, and next day I went to see her, to be told that she 
had left the city. She must have seen and recognized me, though 
she made no sign. 

Isa. Nonsense I you were mistaken; she certainly is dead, and 
Frederic can show you her grave. 

Daville. Mistaken! I tell you I w\as not. I should know those 
eyes, that face and figure, anywhere. I shall find her yet. 

Isa. Well, there are more women in the world. You need not 
^ura the eartli upside down to find her. 



^4 .MILLIE, TUB QVADBOON, 

DavilU. Mighty willing to let her rest now, aren't you? YoiiVe 
good reasons, too ! Perhaps, if the doctor knew who caused that 
notice to he printed, your life might not be all sunshine. 

Isa. Oscar, I do not want you to stay here. It is hardly the 
place for you, my former suitor. People will make remarks, and 
my husband has developed some very unpleasant traits of character 
since I married him, amongst which jealousy ranks foremost. 

Daville. Cool, upon my word ! But, madame, I do not choose to 
go, and that is enough. If your quack of a husband wants to call 
me out, he may, and I'll marry his widow. 

Isa. Wretch! I shall inform my husband that his life is in 
danger. 

Daville. Do so, and I'll swear to it. A woman who will commit 
one murder is quite likely to commit two. (Isadore sinks on sofa) 
Ha, ha! that shot struck home, did it? My fine lady, I know who 
killed old Harriet. 

(IsADOEE Starts tip icith a scream, and falls hack , faintir.g 

Enter, Peiscilla, l. 

Pris. Powers of darkness ! Has satan come for his own ? 

Daville. 'J'his lady has fainted. Will you be kind enough to re- 
store her? 

Fris. (ringing bell) Why are you herea^ain? What new ras- 
cality are you hatching up? 

Daville. Keally, Miss Grover, you are too severe in judging me. 

Enter, Gyp, l, 

Dris. Bring a dipper of water and throw it over her. (pointing 
i© Isadore) 1 would not touch her; no, not if her life depended 
upon it. 

G7jp. 'Deed I will, missus; I'se real kind- hcai-ted, 'deed I is, an' 
I jes lebe, frow water on her, as dough she my bes' fren'. Yes, 'deed 
I will! He, he, he! (exit, l. 

Isa. (sitting up) Oh, I — Did I faint? 

Daville. You did, madam. My appearance must have startled 
you. 

Isa. Very weak and foolish of nie, but I am dreadfully nervous. 
Miss Grover, will you order a room prepared for Mr. Daville? If 
you will excuse me, sir, I will go to my apartments now. 

Enter, Gyp, l., with great dipper; attempts to throw water on Isadohe, 
iDho dodges. 

— You little wretch, what are you doing? 

Gyp. Missus tole me ter frow water on yer, an' I'se agwine ter, 

dats'all. (makes attempt 

Isa. (seizing Daville's cane) You insolent little nigger, be- 
gone! Go, I sa)^, or I'll (lifting cane 

Gijp. (dodges) I'll go if you'se agwine ter raise cane. I 'clare, I 

blebe you fainted jes' a'purpose ! (exit, l. 

Enter, Fred, r., ivalking feebly, with cane. 

Fred. Hallo, Daville! (shakes hands) How do you do? 
Daville. Quite well, thank you. I heard that you were very 
gick 



MILLIE, THE qtlADBOON. S5 

Fred. I am getting along very well now. Have a scat; you have 
come to make lis a visit, I hope. 

Diiville. Yes; I was this way on business, and improved the op- 
portunity to (h'op in here for a day or two, tliat is, if it will he 
agreeable. 

^Fred. I shall be pleased to liavc yon. Isadore, will you see that 
a room is prepared ? 

Daville. I noticed yon had made some improvements, as I came 
along. 

Fred. Yes, there are a great many. You should go over to the 
clift'; you will liarelly know the place, and if you are not tired, 
Tsadore will accompany you now. You will have time to get back 
before tea. 

Isa. Yes; if you care to go, I will accompany you, Mr. Daville, 
unless (imtting an arm around Fred's neck) Frederic wants me to 
stay with him. 

Fred, {pushing her away) Bosh! Take Daville and show him 
around, and not make a goose of yourself. You know I can'.t get 
out. 

Daville. I am very sorry that you cannot go with us. I think a 
change might help you. We will talk it over on our return. 

{exit Isadore and Daville, l. 

Pris. Well, Frederic, do you intend to take that satan in here 
again? Have you forgotten what followed in his wake before? 

Fred. No, Priscilla, I have not forgotten ; would that I could ! 
But he Avas not the cause of it. It was my own blind, mad folly. 
Oh, Priscilla, if I could undo the past seven years of my life, I would 
give every penny I have in the world. 

Pris. Well, you can't, and now you had better look out for the 
present. What do you intend to do about that French nurse? 

Fred. I think I shall keep her to teach little Fred, and look after 
Winnie. 

Pris. Keep her to teach Freddy ! Why, she can't siDcak decent 
English ! 

Fred. Yes, but she can teach him French; and now I believe I 
shall try to get out to the stable. I want to see my horses, {exit e. 

Pr/s."^That man is a fool ! I believe they all are, more or less, weak- 
minded. There is a mystery here — that nurse is not what she pre- 
tends to be. Sometimes I catch her looking at me in such a strange 
manner. She reminds me of some one; her face is strangely 
familiar. I wish I could see her without those glasses and that 
liorrible black shroud. I can't help liking her, though I always did 
hate Catholics. 

Enter, Mildred, r., as Sister Ag>'es, dressed as a nun, wearing 
green glasses. 

Sister A. Ah, mamselle, vare glad to see you ! I hope I may be 
pardon dat I make too free, but I so much like to know de name of 
[le dark monsieur dat walk wit de madam? 

Pris. Satan himself. 

Sister A. Ze mamselle is joke. 

Pris. Well, it is a fine representation of his, anyway. His name 
is Daville, a good-for-nothing scamp, and I'd advise you to look out 
for him. I believe if there was nobody else to try his art upon, h^ 
would attempt to flirt with me. 



S& MILLTE, THE QVADnOON. 

Sister A. Tanks, mamselle, I Ijeecl ze warning. Diet ze 1bad 
monsieur have anyting to do wit monsieur ze doctor's trouljle? ze 
flight of ze madame ? 

Fris. He didn't profess to. 

Sister A. Ze madame is dead, is she not? 

Pris. The papers reported such a l^tory, but I never believed it. 
Frederic went to Chicago, found lier grave, and erected a monument 
over it. It would have been Ix'tter for him had he dug his own 
grave right there and got into it, instead of marrying that good-for- 
nothing'lsadore Ilayden. IIo never would have done it, only she 
gave him no peace till he did mnrry her; kept howling about 
people coupling their names, and blackening her character — hard 
dying black wool, I guess. 

Sister A. If you dislike her, I wonder zat you stay here so long. 

Pris. I promised Mildred that I would stay with her children, 
and I will never leave those young ones ; not if they are dragged all 
over CI cation. It's not an easy time that I have here, though, and I 
fancy I do not make the place too pleasant for Madam Isadore, 
either. 

Enter, Gyp, l. 

Gyp. Miss Silla, Bridget done say will yer come an' order de 
dinner? De butcher done come, an' am waitin'. 

Pris. Why doesn't Mrs. Grover order the dinner? 

Gl/20. She done hab a bad spell, an' frowed de water pitcher at me 
when I axed she. She done gone off wid Massa Debbil now. 

(exit, L. 

Pris. There are plenty of books. Miss — ah — ahem ! There are 
plenty of books, and you can amuse yourself with them. There is a 
fine view from the cliff, but as you are not familiar with the path, 
you had better wait till Frederic or I can go with you. 

Sister A. Tanks, I sail do var well, (exit, Priscilla, l.) Fa- 
miliar with the cliff! Did she but know how familiar the cliff is to 
me ! Oh, how can I endure this? Yet I must. I cannot leave my 
darling boy, who, I fear, is not long for this world, (loeeps; looks R.) 
Some one is coming — I must not be seen weeping ! {exit, l. 

EnteVf Charlie Hayden, r. 

Charlie. Here I am in the old famihar place. Will Priscilla be 
glad to see me? And dear old Fred, too! I'm glad I did not kill 
that wretch of a Daville, though the world would be better without 
him. I wonder if he told Fred about Millie and I. 

Enter, Fred, l. 

Fred. Charlie Hayden! 

Charlie, {advancing, and holding out hand) Yes, it is I. Have 
you no word of welcome for the returned prodigal ? 

Fred. Base scoundrel! base traitor! How dare you enter my 
doors? I have sworn to have your life did you ever cross my path, 
and now defend yourself, for I mean to kill you ! (draws revolver 

Charlie. Fred, wiiat do you mean? You are beside yourself! 

Fred. Hypocrite ! Destroy a man's family, and then lolead ignor- 
ance! I shall fire-, one of us must die. 

Charlie. Fred 

Ftq^* Not a word, I do not wisU to tov ygm' M^A voice. 



MILLIE, THE QUADnOOm 97 

Priscilla enters, l., springs foncard, catches Fred hy collar, and 
jerks him backward; re culver discharged in air. 

Fris. I should like to know wliat infernnl work you nro up to 
now ? 

Fred. Prlscilla, I'll have no intei-ference in my alFairs. Leave 
the room. 

Fris. Indeed! I shall leave this room when I get ready, aud 
come in when I please. And, if 1 see anything more like tlils, I'll 
hring-an officer with me. Cliarlie Ilayden/l wonder at tlie cheek tliat 
brought you here ! What have you done with Mildred ? 

Charlie. What have / done with Millie '? I know notliing about 
her. Is she not here ? 

Fris. Did you not elope with her the night of your departure? 
Did she not go with you ? 

Charlie. JPriscilla! this from ?/o«? I have not seen Mildred since 
I parted from her, in this very room, seven years ago. 

Fris. I knew it ! I was sure it was a story invented by that 
scoundrel 

Fred. This is all very well, since the misguided woman is dead, 
and cannot speak for herself. Leave this house, and do not dare to 
enter its doors again, or I shall kill you. Go ! {pointing, r. 

Charlie. Hear me before 

Fred, (interrupting) Not one word! Go I 

(Charlie turns sadly, r. Slow music 

SCENE II. Sitting-room; lounge, r. c. ; piano, r. Isadore play- 
ing, Daville and Fred singing. Freddie icrapped in shawls, 
lying on lounge hy Sister Agnes, loho is showing him a book. 
Old man, with spectacles, long gray beard and hair, sitting l., loith 
elbows on knees, surveying group. 

Priscilla enters, r., and remains till song is ended. 

Fris. Frederic, I have something for you. 

Fred. For me ? What is it ? 

Fris. Well, I've been fitting up the north chamber for Gyp. 
There was a very pretty dressing table that was in the best rooni 
when Isadore Ilayden was staying here seven years ago. I set Na- 
than to mending it, as it was broken, and while he was hammering 
it, out flew a little drawer, and in it was a letter addressed to yoiu 
(Isadore loho^ has been idly drumming on piano, drops hands toith a 
crash) Here it is. {gives letter to Fred 

Fred, {glancing over letter, begins to read aloud) ''My dear hus- 
band :— For so I shall call you for the last time; (Sister Agnes 
starts up, dropping book; Nathan picks up, and returns book; they 
look at one another; both start. She puts finger on her lips; both sit) 
I am going away, for I know that you have ceased to love me. Be- 
ware of Oscar Daville ! He has insulted me with offers of love 
threatening to disclose the secret of my birth, did 1 dare mention his 
infamous doings to you. When I am gone, no doubt he will tell all. 
But for the sake of our children, do not let him make my historv 
public. Forgive me, dear husband, I meant not to deceive you. I 
did not know the true story of my birth till the death of 3Irs. Wood- 



^S MILLIE, THE qVADBOON, 

ford. Even then I did not know fliut our marriage was illegal. 
Charlie will tell yon of my parentage, for he knows all. Believe 
him, for Daville will traduce me if he can. Farewell, dear Frederic, 
may heaven hless you and protect our dear children. Your unhappy 
Mildred." 

Daville. Upon my word, she gives it rather strong to, "yours 
ti*Ldy !" Well put in about Cliarlie, too ! Had I not seen what I did, 
she would have thrown you off the scent, sure as fate ! 
Fred. AYhat is this secret of which she writes ? Do you know ? 
Daville. It's no use speaking of it now, man, it is all over. 
Fred. Speak at once ! 

Daville. Well, she was the daughter of an old slave woman, be- 
longing to my father. 

Fred, {sinking in chair) Oh, my children! Liar! (rises) Be- 
o-one out of my house, and never enter my presence again ! No 
doubt but that my poor, unhappy wife, fled to escape your persecu- 
tions. Scoundrel, begone ! {takes Fr-ei>th:e by hand) I leave jon 
here now, Mr. Daville, but I do not wish to see you in the morning. 
(Feederic, Freddie, Priscilla and Sister Agnes exit, r. 
Daville. Here's a pretty mess! Confound it, Isadore, why 
couldn't you have destroyed that lettei ? 
Jsa. Hush! 

Daville. Oh, bother! JJe can't hear; {looking towards 'Nathan) 
Not if a mine exploded at his very ear. 1 don't see why you were 
so careless with that letter. 

Isa. I wasn't careless. I put the letter in that drawer and shut 
it after which I was obliged to split the lock out to get it open. The 
drawer was empty, and I could never And the letter. It has always 
been a mystery to me what became of it; now I think it slipped in- 
to that secret drawer, which my hammering must have closed. 

Daville. Well, it's confounded unlucky for me just now, for I 
think I have a clew to the former Mrs. Grover. 
Isa. A clew! 

Daville. Yes ; I think she is in this very house— in fact, I know it. 
Jsa. How can that be ? 

Daville. The sister of charity is the very person. Did you ob- 
serve how she started when that letter was read? And those eyes, 
of which I caught a glimpse, when her glasses were displaced ; that 
dimpled cheek and tliose little hands are Mildred's ; I am sure of it ! 
Isa. If 'tis as you say, what shall we do? 

Daville. Be quiet; do not excite her suspicions, and manage to 
get her down to Mr. Hayden's; I'll be on hand to nab her. Get the 
doctor to take the children for their health; of course she will have 
to go. But do not take that old hag, if you can prevent it. She will 
he sure to npset everything. Xow, Isadore, if you will assist me a 
little, I will pack my traps. I don't want to meet your gentle hus- 
band again. {exit both, l. 

Nathan, {straightening himself) Well, well! Old Nathan isa 
deaf old fool, but, Mr. Daville, remember — there are none so deaf as 
those who to-on't hear! Where Sister Agnes goes, Priscilla goes 
also : where Priscilla goes, her deaf admire follows. I rather think, 
my tine plotters, that between us we will frustrate your infernal 
plot. Heavens ! where have my eyes been tliat I did not recognize 
that little nun before ! I must see Priscilla, (^exit 



MILLIE, THE QUADMOOK. |^ 

ACT V. 

SCENE I.— A Southern Icitclien, fire-place, e. c; chairs r. andi.. 
screen l. ; long-handled fire shovel l. of fire-place. Priscilla 
seated r. 

Pris. Well, I never Iboiiglit of comino- to this place! If 1 have 
to stay here much lon.oer I shall die of fri<;ht. Every clay I expect 
that Oscar Daville will get Mildred into his clutclies. Thank o-ood- 
ncss! I know all about his scheme. That was a bright id^a of 
mine that induced Charlie to disguise himself and spy upon tliem. I 
^vish Mildred had refused to come. 

(rests head on hand and looks into fire 

Si All enters, v.., tip-toes beside and kisses her; she springs np loith a 

scream. 

— You dirty, black nigger! You impudent wretch! What do you 
mean ? 

Siah. Laws a massy, Miss Silia, is dat you? I axes yer pardin, 
deed I docs ! I done linked it was young Dinah. 

I^ris. Took we for a nigger ! Doctor Elnathan Grover's daugh- 
ter mistaken fov a nigger! Can I believe my own ears? That is 
worse than the other. Get out of here before I break your head 
with the lire shovel. (picks up shovel 

Siah. Ya'as,'um! (exit,Ji. 

Enter, Frederic, l. 

Fred. Why, Priscilhi, you look as though you had seen a ghost! 

Pris. A ghost? I'm not afraid of ghosts, \)\\i I live in mortal 
terror of my life. 

Fred. Of what are j^ou afraid ? 

Pris. Of Isadorc Hayden's confederates. I know she is smooth 
as oil before my face, but she wouldn't hesitate to cut my throat, if 
she got a good chance. Oh, I could tell you things that would make 
your eyes stick out. 

Fred. For heaven's sake, Priscilla, what do you mean? I am 
miserable enough ; do not add to my misery to gratify your spite. 

Pris. Gratify my spite, indeed I If you are miserable, it's just 
Avhat you deserve to be. 

Enter, Sister Agnes, l. 

Sister A. I— excuse me! I tink mamselle was alone. 

Fred. Sister Agnes, I am glad to meet you apart from strangers. I 
want to thank you for your kindness to my dear boy. (takes her hand, 
looks down into her jacc; she covers her face loith apron) 'Nay, do not 
weep. Darling Freddie is at rest. Would that I were with him 
and his poor wronged mother. (exit r. 

Pris. Mildred, you are running a great risk by staying here. 
What a dreadful thing it would be to see you in bondage, and not a 
soul able to help j'ou. 

3Iil. I do not fear. I have a friend in Maryland who can take 
possession of everything Oscar Daville now claims. He holds a 
mortgage of all, slaves included. Daville is powerless; I have told 
him so. 



30 MILLIE, THE QUADBOON. 

Pris. Told him so! That's all tlie common sense you have! 
Xow he Mill work some nnderhand game to get you away. What 
is the man's name? I w\ant to know, for, if you disappear, I shall 
set him after that Daville in a hurry. 

3IiL His name is Philip Vane. Here is his address, {giving card) 
Oh, Miss Grover, my heart aches when I think of Freddie ! How he 
longed for his mother, even as I longed for him. If my— if Dr. 
Grover knew, or suspected, my identity, I could not stay longer. 
Sometimes I fear that he suspects, he looks at me so earnestly. 

Pris. I don't think he does. He is unhappy enough; that good- 
for-nothing woman leads him a pretty life. 

Mil. MVs. Hayden bade me ask you to come and sit Avith her 
awhile. She is feeling better to-day. 

Pris. Yes, I will. I have some news which I have been wanting 
to tell her as soon as she is able to bear it. Are you going?. 

Mil. I am going to the nursery. I have promised Winnie a story 
as soon as her lessons are done. {exit both, e. 

Daville enters, l. 

Daville. To the devil with that meddlesome old hag ! She will 
upset everything. I must get rid of her. 

IsADORE enters, l. 

Isa. Oscar, I want to speak with you about the governess. 

Daville.' Well, what of her? 

Isa. I think you had better let her alone. She may cause you a 
great deal of trouble if you attempt to take her. I know Frederic 
will spare nothing or nobody to free her. 

Daville. Ha, ha! So you fear losing your husband, do you? I 
tell you, madam, you missed it when you threw me over for him. I 
can afford to wait for my revenge, knowing it will come. Hear me, 
madam, Mildred Grover shall be my wife, but you shall be mj'- slave! 

Isa. Oscnr Daville! Great heavens ! what do you mean? 

Daville. I mean that I know you, not Millie* are old Harriet's 
daughter. She is Mr. Hayden's own child. Old Harriet took her 
from the cradle and put you, her child, in her place, giving Millie 
to Mrs. Woodford, saying it was her baby, which she wished to save 
from bondage. 

Isa. Villain ! Who do you suppose will believe such a story as 
that? 

Daville. I can prove it. Old Harriet is not dead. I rescued her, 
and haA'e kept her in my power all this time. Oh, you are caught, 
my fine ladj^ ! 

Isa. You diabolical wretch! Will nothing induce you to keep 
quiet? 

Daville. Nothing. 

Isa. Oh, what shall I do? You dare not do this! I sJiall fight 
for my liberty to the bitter end. 

Daville. Fight away, my dear, you will have to give in at last.. 
Adieu, my pretty quadroon ! (exit, z.. 

Isa. {shaking her fist after him) You have sealed your death 
warrant. I will follow him night and day, till I find out where he 
has hidden Harriet— f/ie?i let liim beware I (exj'f, x., 



MILLIE, THE qUABBOOK, SI 

Enter, Priscilla, r. ; Charlie, l. 

Fris. Well, Charlie, I have seen your mother, and 1 have agreed 
to manage a meeting. Where are yon stopping now? 

Charlie. At the hotel. I tell you it is hard to keep up this dis- 
guise. I'm afraid I shall betray myself. But I've found old Harriet 
and I mean to get her away from that scamp. 

Pris. I'm glad of that, but you must hurry. You can go up the 
back stairs to your mother's room ; everybody is in the parlor, and 
you will not b<3 seen. Come, hurry ! (Charlik extis, k. 

Daville enters, l., and hides behind screen. Pricilla goes l. anOj 
stands looking out. 

—1 declare, what a place this is ! If one should get dizzy and fall 
off these steps he ^vould break his neck. 

Daville creeps out, seizes shovel, strikes Priscilla over the head; 
she falls outicard, l. * 

Daville. Ha, ha! old crone, you won't trouble me any more! 
Folks will think you blundered out there, and broke your con- 
founded old neck ! Ah ! what is that ? {dodges behind screen 

Enter, Millie, r. 

Mil. Xobody here : I thought I saw Miss Grover enter. 

(goes L. 
Daville springs out, seizes shawl from chair, throws it over Millie's 
head; she screams; he carries her J.., as Gyp enters, r, 

Gijj). Fo' de good laws a massy ! Massa Debbie done runned off 
wid Sister Agnes ! 

Gyp looks out l., screams; runs r., colliding with Siah, loho is enter- 
ing, R. 
—Oh, Siah! Si-ah ! 

Siah. {holding his stomach, and rolling his eyes) Golly, you'se 
knocked de href all out ob dis chile I What de mattah? 

Gyp. Dat olc Debbie done killed Miss Silla, an' runned off Mid 
Sister Agnes! Oh, Siah, go after he, quick! 

Siah. ' 3Ie'? Me follow de debble ! No, yer don't cotch dis nigger 
gwine dar! 

Gyp. You fool nigger ! it's ?/o?<r Massa Debbie. Kun, run! 

Siah. My debble ! I ain't got no debble ! De bible read 'bout de 
looman what hab sehben debbles, but I ain't no sich a woman. :N^o, 
sah ! 

Gyp. You'se a born fool, you is ! Your Massa Oscar done runned 
oil" wid Sister Agnes, wid a shawl ober her head. 

Siah. Dat so? Why don' you say what you mean, den? I jes 
know better den to trubble Massa Oscar, but I jes keep my eye on 
he, an' see if I kin help her. {goes r, and looks out) Laws a massv ! 
Heah's de ole miss wid her head knocked all ter pieces ! 

Gyp. Yes ; go long an' I'll get somebody to 'tend to her. 

(Siah goes l. ; Gyp, r. 

*Noto.— The glioyel should H made of leather-board, and painted. 



32 31ILL1E, THE QJJADPiOON. 

SCENE II.— Cotton field; baskets oj^ cotton; negro men and loomen 
sitting around, some singing; all loith tin cups. An upright post, 
L. Mii^DREJ) enters 11., 10 it h basket, followed by Siab., zvith can. 
She is without disguise, hair floioing, dressed in coarse cotton, 
thick shoes. She gives negroes bread and bacon from basket. 
SiAH pours drink from can. 

Enter, Daville, l. 

Daville. Well, my pretty bird, do you like your new occupation ? 
By heavens! why don't you answer? Are you ready to oo ^vith 
me now. Hey? 
' 3Iil. Ko — never ! 

Daville. Can't yon name an earlier day for the wedding, my 
love ? Never is a long Avay oft'. 

3Iil. Leave my presence, sir, I do not wish to hear more of your 
insults I 

Daville. Wish it or not, you will liave to hear all I have to say. 
Come, now, would you not rather he my honored wife, than a slave, 
working in the field? 

Mil. Ko, a thousand times, no! You seem to forget that, as a 
slave, you cannot make me a lawful wife. 

Daville. Oh, yes, I can. 1 have tlie power to make you really 
and lawfully my wife. Come, now, away to your work, you nig- 
gers ! {negroes go, l. 
'^ 3Iil. There is one thing tliat you seem to forget. Thilip" Vane 
holds a mortgage of all your property. 

Daville. Not quite so fast, my pretty ono ! Fore-warned is fore- 
armed, you know; and, after being warned of your little game, I 
immediately paid him oft". 

Mil. I believe your story to be a base falsehood ; but, were it 
true, I had rather »lie in yonder vile hovel ; work with negroes in the 
field, or be lashed to death at the whipping post, than become that 
dishonored creature that you would call your wife. Now, go ! for 
do Avhatyou will; say what you may, I will never accede to your 
wishes ! Never ! 

Daville. Very well, madame, you may get on your high horse 
now, but, before I am through with you, you will beg to be my 
wife. Yes, you shall beg on your bended knees ! 

3Iil. I do not fear you. I am in your power now, but, do not 
forget 1 am under the eye of One who never sleeps. Y^ou may exult 
now, but retribution loill come! 

Daville. Bah ! None of your preaching to me. I've borne a good 
deal from you, but 1 won't bear that. If you had some masters, Ihey 
would send you to the whipping post for that runaway of yours. By 
heavens! if you try it again, I'Ji set the dogs atter you; you ave 
worth too much to lose. Come, now, my beauty, give me a kiss ! 
(attempts to kiss her; she strikes him in the face) You she-devil ! I'll 
take some of the rebellion out of you ! (calls) Slab ! Siah ! 

Siah. (L.) Sah! 

Daville. Come here ! tie up that wench, and lash her till I tell 
you to stop. 

Siah, I can't, 'deed I can't, massa! I'se rather you lick me, 
'deed I had, massa ! 

Daville. Y'ou black hound! do you mean to disobey me? Tie 
lier up at once, or I'll break every ]3one in your |)ody. 



MILLIE, THE QUAD BO OK. 33 

Siah. I ca-n't, oh, ma.ss;i, I can't tie up clem pooty little white 
ban's, 'deed I ca-an't ! Boo-hoo-hoo ! 
J/i7. (holding hands towards Siah) Do vour master's bidding, 

Siah. Ica-can't! Boo-boo-hoo! I rudder di-lii m5^sef! You*se 
can't Stan' it, an' I'se tough. Oh, Massa Oscar, don' do it! she ain't 
no nig-oer — 

Daville. Shut up ! I'll teach you to defy mc. {llous whUlle 

Two negroes enter, l. 

—There, you niggers, tie up that wench and lick her till she knows 
better than to raise her hand against her master, {negroes tie her 
hands above her head to post) ISTow lay on the whip, (negro attempts 
to strike; Siah springs forward and receives the bloio) You black 
bound! You shall have a licking all by yourself! Here, you nig- 
gers, take him out and give him a hundred lashes, (exit negroes, 
leading SiAU) Hallo! the little spit-tire has fainted. Well, I'll let 
her hang there awhile ; it'll take some of the courage out of her. It 
won't do to lick her much ; it will spoil her beauty. (exit l. 

Enter, Gyp, r. 

Gyp. Oh, my poor little missus ! (creeps quietly up beside Mil- 
dred, and touches her) Is you dead? 

Mil. Oh, Gyp, is tliat you? Oh, can you help me? I must get 
away. 

Gyp. Sli ! I'se come to sabe you. {unties Mildred) I kin take 
yer'lo a place whar yer nebber will get foun', nebber! Come, we 
mus' get away 'fore de massa comes. 

3Iil. Gyp, tell me, is Miss Grover dead? 

Gyp. Law, no! Miss Silla am tough, she is. Massa Frederic 
an' Massa Nathan, dey toted her up-stairs an' I tooked care ob her. 
Come, now, let's be gwine! 

Mil. Can we escape the dogs ? 

Gyp. He, lie ! Dem dogs won't bite no mo'. Dey dead, dey is ! 
Miss Silla gib me de pisin, an' I fixed 'cm. Nobody keeps dogs 
roun' heah 'sides Massa Oscar. We'se all right. Come on, I ain't 
'fraid. I'se a free nigger, I is ! 

3Iil, Heaven bless yoit, and protect us both. 

(exit both, r. ; music 

SCENE III. — Trees, bushes, rocks, etc.; small fire, l. ; tin cup, plate 
and knife on rock, R. Millie seated R. of fire; hair Jiovnng, 
clothes tattered. 

Mil. Ah! how long must I endure tliis? Why am I so perse- 
cuted and forsaken? Why not cast myself into yonder slimy waters 
and iDut an end to this wretched existence? No; I will trust in 
Him who hath said, "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." 
(rises, takes plate, and kneeling before fire, rakes out baked potatoes) 
Siah, faithful boy, will not forsake me, and poor little Gyi) — unless 
she has been foully dealt with, will not let me starve. 

Enter, Siah, r., cautiously. 

Siah. Golly, Miss ! (Millie drops plate and springs up) Don't 
Ibescart! I 'spec you tho't 'twas a wilcl-Qat, but I teU ypu nuto 



sides a nigger or a jassax kin ebber git*frou dis yar brer bushes. I 
'clar it's wusser den de scrub oak up norf, whar Miss Silla sent me 
arter huckleberries. 

3Iil. 1 am so glad you have come! Oli, Siah, I have been here 
so long that I am almost discouraged ! When shall I get away? 

Siah. I wants yer ter start right off. I"se fixed ebryting, Ion ^ do> 
help ob Miss Silla an' Gyp. Miss Silla 'pendcd on de help ob Massa 
Nathan, but he done gone off an' nebber come back. Miss Silla 
writed to dat fren' ob V^iu'S in Marylan', and Gyp toted de letter in 
her pocket an' brought dis back. [gives Millie IcLter 

Mil. (reads letter) But I don't understand this. 'J'here is a pass 
for a mulatto boy, belonging to Winnitred Vane. This will not do 
for me. I am not a boy. Oh, Siah, I shall be discovered if I at- 
tempt to leave this place ! 

Siah. 'Scovered! Heah in dis bundle is Sue's Sam's bes' cloos, 
dey will. ies' 'bout fit you, an' yer kin put dat putty hair under de 
cap. Dat will make a boy ob yer. Den dar is some dye stuff' dat 
Avill make yer a latter. I'se got a jassax on de odder side de swamp 
dat will tote yer ober all right. 

3Iil. My brave bo}^, how can I thank you for all you have done 
for me? 

Siah. I'd die fo' you, 'deed I would, missus! Dis chile ain't 
'fraid nobody. I guess I'll hab a tater. {digs one out the five and pro- 
ceeds to eat U; noise -R.) De laws a massy! what dat? (noise) I 
jes' run out while yer puts on dem does, (noise) Golly! (nms l. 

3Iil. Thank heaven, I shall soon be free! (looks at paper) This 
will pass me over the country — when once 1 am out of this swamp. 
(noise) I must find Siah and get into the cabin. ( Daville Zoo/ts m 
K.) I shall soon be with my dear friend. 

(picks up bundle and basket 
Enter, Daville, n. 

Daville. Yes, you will fee your dear friend very soon. He is 
here now. (Millie screams and drops basket.) So here is where 
you have stolen your nest, is it? This accounts for Siah's torn 
clothes. I suspected as much, and followed him. Have you no 
word of welcome forme? Come, my pretty bird, give me a kiss. 
I've come to take you liomc. (advancing totvard Millie 

31il. (pointing revolver) Back, villain! Dare advance anotlier 
step and I will lav you dead at my feet. (sloio rausic 

Daville. (draining revolver) Two can play at that game, my lady. 
Novf drop that revolver or I will break the arm that holds it. Yon 
are mine now. 

31il. Never! I have a means of escape, and, rather than fall a 
victim to your power and passion, I will take my life into my owii 
hands. 

Daville. By heavens ! I'll 

(springs towards Millie; she springs back, puts revolver to her head 

Enter, Charlie, l., followed by Harriet and Siah. Charlie catches 
Millie's hand; revolver is discharged in the air. Isadore enters^ 
R., dressed in riding-habit— music. 

Charlie. Drop that revolver at once, or (pointing revolver) I'll 
drop it for yon. iJ)A\ii.JA^ drppr, r(roirer) Si;-.!'., go and pick that 

up. 



MILLIE, THE qUADBOON. ^5 

SiaJi. Oil, Massa, I rudder not! 'Deed, Mnssa, I don' care 'bout 
gittin' too near Massa Oscar wlien lie mad, 'deed I don't, sah ! 

(Harriet j;tc/t"s up revolver 
Daville. Don't you know, curse j-ou, that you are interferring 
with my i)roperty ? 

Charlie, Ko; I do not! 

Enter, Fred, l. 

— I am protecting my sister from the persecutions of a scheming, 
villain. (Millie looks surprised 

Fred. (Jwlding out hands to Mildred) Millie, I know all — even 
more than you. Oh, my darlino-, can you forgiA^e me? 

3Iil. Sir, you forget yourself ! Yonder stands your wife. 

Enter, Priscilla, 11., folloived by Gyp and Police Officer. 

Pris. Land of liberty ! Frederic Grover, how came you here? 

Fred. I came here in the cause of justice. Overhearing a con- 
versation between Isadore and Daville, which disclosed the fact that 
Millie was living, also that Isadore, not Millie, was Harriet's daugh- 
ter. I resolved to keep quiet and watch the movements of that 
worthy pair. I discovered that Isadore was following Daville, and 
easily kept her in sight. This great wrong shall be righted. 

Charlie. But, Priscilla, how came you and this gentleman here? 

Pris. Vengeance brought me here, young man. This gentleman 
is Sheriff Ford. We went to Daville's plantation to arrest the ras- 
cal, and, not finding him, t feared for Millie's safety. Gyp knew 
pretty near the place where she was concealed, so I got her and 
started out. I have ridden five miles on a donkey to 'witness the 
arrest of Oscar Daville. 

Gyp. Ya'as, an' dis chile walked five miles an' foun' de path fo' 
dat jassax. I'se mos' scratched ter pieces, but I'se willin' ter make 
paths fo' jassaxesfo'ebber, 'ti could sabe my putty little missus. 

Charlie, (putting his arm around Millie) Millie, can you realize 
that I am your brother ? 

Mil. Dear Charlie, it seems like a dream. I cannot understand 
it at all. How can it be ? 

Harriet, {coming forward) lean best explain. You were born 
one week after my baby girl, who was nearly as white as yourself. 
I was born in slavery and knew the curse that must follow my 
child. It was when you were born that I conceived the idea of 
changing the infants and thus freeing my babe. Mrs. Hayden was 
very ilf and I felt that the change would not be discovered. So, 
while the nurse slept, I stole in and changed them. But I could noc 
see you, an innocent babe, consigned to the life of shame that I knew 
awaited you in slavery. So one day when the train started north, 
I thrust you into the arms of Mrs. Woodford. Since then I have 
watched over both of you. I have sinned, yet I have suffered. I 
pray, dear lady, that you will forgive me. 

Mil. You iiave suffered much and so have I. You have caused 
me much misery, yet I will freely forgive you. The temptation was 
great. 

Isa. {to Millie) I am foiled, baflSed at every turn ! I have 
sinned, but I do not ask your forgiveness, {turns to Frederic) Oh, 
Frederic ! Frederic ! Have you no i)ity for me? Can you not give 
me one kind word, one loving look? {JcneQls before Frederic) Will 
f ou cast mQ off iQx lier ? _ 



so MILLIE, TUB QUADBOOK, 

Fred. ( turns away) Woman, do nofe kneel to me, but rather to 
vour Maker. I never Avish to look upon your wicked faceagam! 
Oh, woman, woman! what misery you have caused me! How can 
I foroive youV . , . , i . 

Isa. (rises) I am forsaken, unloved ! a slave, with no right to 
the name I bear ! There is but one way of escape— death ! 
linns Ji., followed 5?/ Frederic and Sheriff. D a ville spri»^s l. 
Pkiscilla seizes him by coat tail, bringing him backward. 

Pris. No you don't, my man ! I didn't ride five miles on a don- 
key to have you escape me now. Ko, sir! I must insist upon a 
little more of your interesting company. You are to be rewarded 
for your bravery. I pray you not to be so modest as to think of run- 
ning' away. 

Laville. Shut up ! you mfernal old hag ! I hope I may get where 
I shall never see your diabolical visage again. 

Fris. Indeed! Why I shall take great pleasure in calhng upon 
you. I hope your striped uniform will prove a good fit. 

Daville. Curse you ! I'll be the death of you ! 
Enter, Frederic and Sheriff. 

Fred. Charlie, you must help me. Isadore has thrown herself 
over the rocks. We must try to get her body. 

3Iil. Poor miss^uided woman! 

Pris. Do you' intend to let that scalawag run? Perhaps you 
think I am perfectly willing to be killed ! not killed like a respecta- 
ble person either! The idea of it! 3Ie! Dr. Elnathan Grover's 
dauo'bter, knocked on the head with a lire shovel and thrown out of 
door!s like a nasty cat! Sheriff Ford, you handcuff that man before 
you go fishing after anybody. (Sheriff steps iip beside Daville 

Daville. ((o'Millie) 'Curseyou! if I can't have you, nobody shall! 

Fravjs revolver and fires at liliiAAV.. CnA-Ri^m springs before her and 
receives the bullet; falls backward into Siah's arms. Millie 
kneels beside Charlie. Feed takes Charlie's head from Siah; 
T'Ri^cu.i.K bends over him. I) ay ille springs e. Sheriff catches 
him and puts on handcuffs. 

Mil. Charlie, dear, dear Charlie ! Can you speak to me ? 

Charlie. I'm done for, Millie ! Darling sister, kiss me once more. 
(she kisses him) Auntie, do not weep for me. Fred, I die for Mil- 
lie and you must live for her. 

Fred. I will die for her if necessnry. I will do all in my power 
to protect her from harm. Oh, Charlie, my dear boy, can you for- 
give me for treating you as I have? 

Charlie. Yes, Fred, freely— Millie, for my sake and for the sr.ke 
of your innocent child, forgive him too ! 

3Iil. Oh, Charlie, I cannot! Not now! 

Charlie. Do not refuse my dying request ! Say you will forgive 
him. 

3Iil. I will forgive him, Charlie! 

Charlie. For tlio sake of your child be married again, (joins 

Fred and Millie's hands) Farewell, auntie! Tell mo-ther — tell — ' 

aU is well. Farewell loved ones I May your lil'c be happy and 

pe-a-ce to the end. (falls back 

CURTAIN. 



TE8, WE THINK IT WILL PLEaSSI t^tj, 
THIS NEW DBAMA ENTITLED 



Brae; ttiB Panr 

Hdusb &irlT 



It will please 70ur audience at least i£ it 13 presented well. Tlie character of BRACr 
isTerymnoliUke "FANOHON THE CEIOKET, "-is replete with 

RICH AND SPARKLING DIALOGUE, 

FUNNY AND TELLING SITUATIONS, 
DARE-DEVIL EXPLOITS, ETC., 

and worthy tho best talents of the best ladies. The beauty of the play is, tliat it is 
entirely original, the acts and scenes not being found in a dozen other plays, but 
only this one. The leading man. Bob Wilder, is a gentleman of leisure, who be 
comes smitten with Brae, and in order to play the part, should be able to sing and 
perhaps dance too— although it is not positively necessary. There is a very funny 
©rd maid's part, which if played well will certainly "bring down tlie housej' 

All the other characters 3males, 2 females, arc telling ones. To please the average 
audience of to-day, a play nxust be selected with a nice construction of sentiment and 
mirth. This play fills the requirements we believe. 

Send for specimen copy and see if it is not just what you want. 

Time of playing 2 hours. Price 15 cents 

NO CHARGE IS MADE FOR ITS USE-PERFORMANCE FREE. 



NEW MILITAHY DRAMA I 

THE CONFEDERilTE SPY. 

BY ELLSWORTH STEEDMAN. 

SEND 15 CENTS FOR SAMPLE COPY. 

If you want broad fun! fun that will make you laugh 
and snort! fairly get up and howl and hold 

your sides! — buy a copy of 
BERT RICHARDS FARCE-COMEDY, ENTITLED 

A ttend to this at once and live longer and happier. Pricel5c 



JUST OUT— A New Temperance Play! 

Dne Glass nf W^ine. 

IN FOUR ACTS. 
DBA MAT IS PEBSON^. 

David Mason A farmer, 

Herbert Mason David^s son— just from college. 

KoYAL Meadows Foster-son of Mrs. Clifton. 

Arthur Floyd A villain. 

George Clifton A returned Californian. 

Parson Swift An astonished clergyman. 

Bill Torry A boatman — Floijd's confederate. 

Brewster Police officer. 

Ebony A colored individual. 

Mrs. Mason Bavid's wife — a good adviser. 

Dolores ? The miner^s daughter, 

Mrs. Clifton George Clifton^ s deserted xoife. 

WiNNiFRED Clifton Mrs. Clifton'' s daughter. 

Hapzib AH A lady of color. 

Festival of Ilays. 

A NEW AND OBIGINAL SEBIES OF TABLEAUX. 

ft is especially <Iesf giEC«l for AiaERtcwi* Companies, as it re- 

qiiiaes only a plailbmi, no scenery Iseing necessai-y 

Tor its pi'odiaetion. Mirlli and Sadness are 

well eontblned. Cosiisntes Biodern. 

Time one lionr. Tlie following 

are tite days represented. 

Price 15 Cents— Order a Copy. 

characters. 
Header. 

Kew Year Chorus of girls in white. 

Washington's Birthday George Washington. 

Valentine's Day Maiden and lover. 

St. Patrick's Day Chorus of boys. 

"Washing Day Girls at tubs. 

House-Cleaning Day 3Ian and woman. 

April Fool's Day Old maid, and little hoy. 

Ash Wednesday Monk. 

Good Friday Women at cross, 

Easter Chorus of girls in white. 

May Day May queen, chorus of children. 

Memorial Day Two soldiers. 

July Fourth Uncle iSam, boys. 

Emancipation Day Darkey. 

Hallowe'en Group of girls. 

Thanksgiving Day 3Ian, little girl, 

Christmas Group of chitdren* 



~*»^ THEATRICAL <S^&>- 

AND FANCY COSTUME WIGS. 

Attozition is called to tMs list of "WIGS, BEARDS, MUS- 
TACHES, WHISKERS, &c. 



We employ a wig-maker especially to manufacture goods for our trade, 

and can guarantee satisfaction. All goods made 

under our personal supervision. 



In. ordering be careful to state every particular, i. e. size, color, etc. 
special cliaracter or occasion can be made to order. 

— ''-Tiorr-' — 



Any wig tot 



White Old Man $4.50 

Iron Gray 4.50 

Yankee 4.50 

Irish 4.50 

Crop [all colors] 4.50 

Fright 5.00 

Negro 90 

" [white old ronn] 1.50 

" ;grey " ] 1.50 

" with top knot] 1.50 

" [wench] 5.00 

Sir Peter Teazle 5.00 

Shylock 4.50 

Court Wig with Bag 4.50 

Tio 4.50 

Paul Pry 4.50 

Dundreary 5.50 

Light Dress Wig, with parting 5.50 

Rough Irishman 4.00 

Flaxen Country Boy 3.50 

Physician or Lawj'er [white] 5.00 

Dress Wig with Eycbr'ws & Whisk'rs 5.50 

Dress, without parting _ 4.00 

Duplex; can be worn either as a male 
or female Wig; very convenient; in 

reality 2 AVigs ia 1 6.00 

Flow "Nfigs, Long Hair, suitable for 
most Shakesperian characters. Fairy 
Plays, &.G 5.50 



Comic Old Woman's Front Piece. 



Dress Scalp, with parting $5,00 

Scalps 2.75 

Gentlemanly Irish, with parting 5.00 

Bald Wigs, Grey or White 4.50 

Rip Van Winkle 4.50 

Grey Dress Wig, with parting 4.aO 

White " " " 4.50 

Clowns, in colors 4.50 

Pantaloon, Wig and Beard 5.00 

Robinson Crusoe 4.50 

Monk 4.00 

Box and Cox, 2 Wigs, each Wig 3.50 

Chinaman, with Pigtail 5.00 

Dress Wig, superior 5.00 

Red and Brown Bald Wigs 4.50 

LADIES. 

Court Wig 6.50 

Grand Duchess 6.50 

Lady Teazle 7.00 

Marie Antoinette 7.50 

Mother-m-Law 5.50 

Female, plain. Long Hair, so that lady 
can do up as she wishes, a really fine 

Wig 10.00 

Nigger Crape Masks, a substitute for 

blacking the face 2.00 

Ladies' Wigs, Blonde, Light and Dark 
Broivn and Black, made up in pres- 
ent fashion 6.00 



S2.50. 



BEARDS, WHISKERS, MUSTACHES, &c. 



Side \A''hiskr's & M'stache on wire $1.25' 

Side Vvliiskers and Mustache, on 

wire, superior 1.50 

Side Whiskers, no Mustache, wire 1.00 

Side AVhiskers & Mustache, Gauze 2.00 

Side Whiskers and Mustache, on 

gauze, superior 2.25 

Side Whiskers, without Mustache, 

on gause 1.50 

Side Whiskers, without Slustache, 

on gauze, superior 1.75 

Full Beard 1.75 

" " superior 2.00 



Full Beard without Mustache 1.50 

Full Beard, no Mustache, superior 1.75 

Mustache and Chin Beard, combined.. 2.00 

Imperials SO 

Full Chin Beard 1.25 

Mustaches on wire 35 

" " gause 40 

CRAPE HAIR— For making False 
Whiskers, Mustaches, .<fec. 
Colors— Black, White, Light Brown, 
Dark Brown, Iron Grey & Red. 
Price per yard 20 



Address 



A. D.AMES. PUB'R, 



LOCK BOX 102. 



CLYDE. OHIO. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

PHI 

018 597 183 im 



ArtlclBS KTGBflBfl. h^ 

MAKE TOUB OWN WIGS, BE ABB 
P BE P ABED WOOL IN ALL GO 

TABLEAUX LIGHTS. Our Tableaux Ligu.= ».« ,.x^.. 
of the best manufacture. Plainest directions accompany each. We have the fol- 
lowing colors. Red, Green. Blue, Violet, White, Pink. Price each 25 cents. >-; v ' 

COLORED FIRE IN BULK. Put up in one-half pound packages. Pnc« 
per pound. $1.75. Per half-pound, $1.00. l-r^i 

MAGNESIUM TABLEAUX LIGHTS. A metal capable of beinl 
ignited by a common match, and burning with great brilliancy, producing a light • 
that can be seen thirty miles. Unequalled in beauty and brilliancy. This is the ' 
best light for moonlight and statuary. Price each package, 25 cents; per do2e&t'' 
$2 50 <^^ I 

LIGHTNING FOR PRIVATE THEATRICALS. We will send » 
package of material for this purpose, with full printed dire-ctions for its \xi6\ to 
any address, for 50 cents. The effect produced by it will be found all. that' ca4 bp 

BLUE.' For unshaven faces. This is very necessary in low comedy cbaractefa. ' 

Price per box-, 25 cents. "*."?■ ! 

PREPARED BURNT CORK. For Negro Minstrels. This article we 

can recommend as it can be taken off as easily as put on; in which it difEers from ' 

most all others manufactured. In tin boxes, enough for 25 performances. ' 

Price per box, 40 cents. ^ , ^ «.!,.' 

CARMINE. For the face and to heighten the effect of the Burnt Cork m Negro 

characters. Price per box, 30 cents. 
CHROME. For sallow complexions, also for lightening the eyebrows, mous- 
taches, etc. Price per box. 25 cents. 
PREPARED DUTCH PINK. For pale, sallow, and wan complexions. 

Price per box, 25 cents. j 

EMAIL NOIR. To stop out teeth for old men characters, witches, etc. Price 

40 cents. ' 

PREPARED FULLER'S EARTH. To powder the face before "making 

up," 30 cents. . * 

JOINING PASTE. For joining bald fronts of wigs to forehead. Price per 

sticlc 15 C6nt^ 
MASCARO'OR WATER COSMETIQUE. For darkening the eye- 

brows and moustaches, without greaang them and making them prominent. 

Brown or black, 60 cents. 
MONGOLIAN. For Indians, Mulatoes, etc. Price per box, 39 cents. 
PASTE POWDER. To enlarge the shape of the nose, lor low comedy char* 

acters, etc. Price per box, 30 cents. 
PREPARED NOSE PUTTY. Used for the same purpose as Paste Powder, 

and applied in the snme way. Price, 25 cents. 
RUDDY ROUGE. For sunburnt faces. Most essential for low comedy 

country or seaman's characters. Price per box, 3U cents. 
SPIRIT GUM. The best in use, prepared expr(?ssly for securing moustaches, 

etc. Price, 25 cents. 
SKIN MOUSTACHE MASKS. For hiding the moustache in powder 

costmne nieces, negrress characters, etc. Price, 15 cents. 
POWDERED ANTIMONY. For shading the hollows of the eyes. Price 

per box, 30 cents. 
PREPARED WHITING. For Pantomimes, Clown's Faces, Statuary, etc 
Price per box, 25 cents. 

MR. CHAS. D. HESS' EXOVIA CREAM STICK PAINTS. 



No. 1.— Very Light Flesh Color. 

♦• 2.— Deeper Tint Flesh Color. 

" 3.— Natural Flesh,) 

♦• 4.— Rose Tint, )>For Juvenile Heroes. 

•• 5.— Deeper Shape, J 

" 6.— Healthy Sunburnt. 

" 7.— " " Deeper Shade. 

" 8.— Sallow for Young Men. 

" 9.— Healthy Color for Middle Age. 



No. 10.— Sallow, for Old Ago* 
" ll.-Ruddy, . " " 
•• 12.-01ive, Healthy. 
" 13.— " Lighter Shade, 
•• 14.-Gipsy Flesh Color. 
•• 15.-Othello. 
" 16.— Chinese. 
" 17.— Indian. 
" 18.— East Indian. 
" 19.— Jap. 
25 cents each. Lining Colors four 



Done up in sticks four inches in length, at 
inches long at 10 cents each. 

A Box of Exovia Cream Sticks, containing the following colors: Two shades of 
Flesh, one Black, one Brown, one Lake, one Crimson, one White, one Carmine, and 
a color lor Shading Wrinkles, §1.00. 



